Der zweite Sommer
by kakkujapojat
Summary: Sequel to DLS. Mello comes to spend the summer with Matt at his uncle's place, but as their relationship becomes more serious, it is challenged by Matt's past and insecurities as well as his refusal to come out to his uncle.
1. Reunion

**YES THIS IS THE PROBABLY-FORGOTTEN-BY-ALL-OF-YOU SEQUEL THAT TOOK ME 2+ YEARS TO WRITE. FORGIVE ME FOR BEING SO PATHETICALLY LAZY AND DSJFLKDJ.**

**I apologise to those of you who have waited a very long time for this sequel, and I'll understand if some of you aren't even Deathnote fans anymore -sweatdrop- (even though this story is completely hardcore AU and has nothing to do with DN but the names) but I hope everyone will enjoy this story just the same. I worked hard on it, and it recently went through some harsh editing to cut out a lot of repetitive things and things that I didn't like. Yes, it is all finished, all of my fanfictions have always been prewritten. I'm just cruel and don't publish it all at once. Mwahaha.**

**Et, pour mes "fans" français: vous pouvez écrire un commentaire en français, je peux vous comprendre parfaitement ! Bien que mon français ne soit pas parfait, c'est pas un problème pour moi si vous m'écrivez en français.**

**I would like to thank "Off in Her Own Little World" for correcting the main title. And also a big thanks to Aysa-Millana, who corrected the German titles and phrases throughout the story, along with helping me with cultural things! I appreciate you guys so much.**

**ALSO KEEP IN MIND THAT THE FIRST LIKE, 9 CHAPTERS OF THIS STORY ARE ABOUT A YEAR OR TWO OLD AND MY WRITING STYLE PROBABLY CHANGED HALFWAY THROUGH OTL. AND I'M REALLY SORRY IF IT SUCKS, I TRIED.**

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><p>Kapitel 01<br>**Chapter 1**

Wiedersehen  
>"<strong>Reunion"<br>**_Réunion_

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><p>The gruelling anxiety and anticipation that seized Matt that June morning had nothing to do with the onset of summer before him, nor with the afternoon approaching and the prospect of spending the rest of the night cosied up in the house. In reality, the redhead was never this anxious. He always managed -or rather, made an effort to- disguise his emotions quite well, no matter whose particular company he happened to be in. His fidgeting this night was very unusual, so much so that anyone who knew the boy well would be slightly concerned. However, with no one around to see him, he gave way to the solicitude and restlessness that overpowered him that afternoon. Though by no means was this brought on by the darkening of the sky in anticipation of nightfall, or the knowledge that he would be free of his boring, stuffy classroom at school for a period of two months. No, the twitching and shaking of his hands and severe dryness of his mouth was brought on by the clock.<p>

It had chimed six o'clock just mere minutes ago, and since then Matt had been fretfully pacing the room, so much so that there was now an evident trace of footprints scattered around the perimeter of the room. It was six-eleven now, and every minute passed was another pace around the room. Time seemed to drag by so slowly.

Then it was six-thirty. The low crunching of gravel in the driveway sent Matt straight to the window, his eyes locked obsessively on the taxi now parked in the driveway.

The sound of the doorbell a few seconds later startled Matt and he jumped away from the window as though stung. At first, he made to bolt towards the door and throw it wide open, but then he regained his composure. He stopped, took a deep breath, and then went to the doorway, opening the door without trying to show his obvious enthusiasm.

The blond boy standing on the doorstep smiled warmly. "Hey – long time no see, huh?" He set his stuff down in the hallway, and before he'd even gotten completely inside, Matt had promptly thrown his arms around the other boy's neck, jumping straight into his arms.

"Haha, missed you too," the blond laughed, breathless with the effort of supporting Matt's weight.

Taking into consideration how heavy he must be, Matt courteously hopped down to the floor, studying the blond standing before him.

In reality, Mello was a year older (now at fifteen), yet he was still quite a bit shorter than Matt, and the childlike features of his face still lingered somewhat, but all Matt could see was the fourteen-year-old boy he'd fallen in love with just one year ago.

"I can't believe you're actually here!" Matt shook his head in disbelief, placing his hands on either side of Mello's face to feel the familiarness beneath his fingertips.

Before he could come to his senses completely, Matt pulled Mello forward and hurriedly pressed their lips together in a long-missed gesture of affection. The kiss sent a sudden spark of flashbacks before Matt's eyes, and he smiled as he and Mello parted. "I've missed that."

"Me too." Mello affectionately tucked a strand of red hair behind Matt's ear, before turning his head and looking curiously around the interior of the room. He let out a long whistle. "Wow...nice place."

Matt laughed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "Yeah, uh...my uncle isn't here right now, but he'll be in time for supper."

"Cool... So uh, where's your room?"

"Upstairs." Matt inclined his head toward the staircase, and Mello picked his things back up, following the other boy upstairs. As Matt walked ahead of him, his thoughts began to run together into one huge jumbled mess, leaving him incapable to think. Just the idea of being alone in his room with the blond sent all sorts of shivers throughout Matt's body. At camp, they hadn't had a room to go to. The privacy they'd be allowed this summer was new to the both of them. Matt rather enjoyed pondering the prospect.

The redhead lead Mello down the long, upstairs hallway, to a door at the end. He promptly swung it open and walked nonchalantly inside, while memorizing the look of utter amazement that crossed Mello's face at that moment.

"Holy..." Mouth open, the blond eagerly scanned every inch of the room in wonder.

To Matt, the room didn't seem that great. It was just a room, after all. Though Mello's obvious admiration still made him smile.

Mello walked over and fingered the silky red covers of the large bed in the center of the room in awe, tracing the white lace embedded on the edges. He then laughed. "You never told me you were rich!"

Matt blushed. "I'm not!" he protested. "My...uncle is, sort of."

"That's amazing!" he tossed his bag on the bed and went over to the window, gazing out longingly into the broad countryside. "I would _love_ to live somewhere like this. You're so lucky!"

"Not really." Matt shrugged, shifting his feet, and Mello -realizing what he'd said- immediately sobered up.

"Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"It's fine." Matt smiled to assure the blond that he hadn't taken offense. "I suppose I'm luckier than a lot of people."

"So um...what time will your uncle be home?"

"Around seven. He told me that we could help ourselves to the food in the kitchen - or whatever."

"Cool. So...what do you want to do until he gets back?"

"Uh well...we could play video games," he suggested, knowing it probably sounded lame. Though it wasn't as if there was anything else to do; he was sure Mello would find -quite soon- that the country was rather devoid of any amusing activities to partake in.

To his surprise, Mello smiled. "Sure, that sounds fun! I never get to play them much at home."

Both boys plopped themselves on the floor in front of the TV and X-box, after randomly choosing a game from Matt's obsessive life-long collection.

"I feel I should tell you, though," Matt said with a wry smile, "no one has _ever_ beaten me at 'Mortal Kombat'."

"Well, we'll just have to see about that, now – won't we?" Mello replied, his voice challenging.

They started the game, and for the first two rounds, Matt won effortlessly. He was proud of this, taking no hesitation to boast and declare himself the 'Game Master'. Mello -thoroughly irritated with losing- simply began pressing random buttons on the controller in hopes that he would click something right. It only served to weaken his chances, and Matt received three flawless victories in a row.

"That's not fair!" the blond whined, as he lost once again. "You keep beating me!"

Matt laughed. "I told you no one has ever beaten me," he gloated.

"Come on, at least give me a chance!" Mello protested.

"I'm not going to just let you win!" Matt said.

Mello sighed and engaged in another fruitless attempt to defeat Matt's character.

He lost again.

"Dammit all!" Mello groaned, tossing the controller aside. "There's no point in playing if I'm just going to lose!"

"Oh stop whining, you sore loser." Matt brushed him off.

Mello glared, and then pounced on Matt, pushing him to the floor and pinning his arms above his head.

The redhead simply grinned, enjoying the attention. "Is someone upset because they keep losing?" Matt pouted in a mock sympathetic voice.

"Shut up...!" Mello pleaded. "It's not funny!"

With a smirk, Matt broke free of Mello's grip and rolled over to where the blond was underneath him, pleased with the surprised yelp he received. He could feel Mello squirming beneath him, trying to push him off. It gave Matt an odd sense of pleasure.

"H-hey, get off me!" Mello grumbled, his face flushed a light pink. Whether it was out of anger or embarrassment, Matt knew not.

"Hm...let me think about that..." Matt mused, putting a finger thoughtfully to his lips. "I don't think I want to."

"Oh? And why is that?" Mello inquired, raising an eyebrow at Matt's response.

"Maybe I like my position up here," the redhead stated, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

Mello's glare this time was slightly half-hearted, as was his next attempt to push Matt off of him. Finally, he gave a defeated sigh, and looked up at Matt with a hint of his familiar devilish smile curling at the edge of his beautiful lips. "Then I guess I'll have to make you get off of me," he suggested.

"And what means do you have in mind?" Matt asked, leaning in closer to the blond, a disguised hint of insinuation in his voice.

"Hm, let me think..." Mello imitated Matt's previous look of thoughtfulness as he mulled over his options. He reached up and brushed his fingertips lightly across Matt's cheek, causing goosebumps to rise on the redhead's skin. "I could always use my most...forceful methods," the blond hinted suggestively.

"Forceful methods, you say?" Matt raised an eyebrow and smiled. "You, Mello, forceful? I hardly think so."

"Watch me," Mello replied, and in mere seconds, he'd shoved Matt roughly off of him and took his rightful place on the other boy's lap. He grinned playfully as he pressed his hands to Matt's shoulders to keep him pinned down. "You know, you look really cute all flushed like that," he giggled.

Flushed? Matt was flushed? The redhead hadn't noticed. Matt pulled Mello down and captured his lips in a surprise kiss, hoping the boy hadn't noticed his sudden transfixion.

Slightly caught off guard -as Matt had hoped he would be- Mello's grip on his shoulders slackened, and the redhead was able to roll over and have the other boy beneath him once more. Even then, their mouths didn't separate from each other. Mello closed his hand around the material of Matt's shirt in what was practically a death grip, and kept their lips pressed tightly together, moaning slightly as Matt's tongue slid its way into the dark, succulent space that was his mouth. Instinctively, Matt pressed his lips harder against Mello's, gently biting the other boy's bottom lip, earning a louder moan from beneath him.

As he heard the noises Mello made in response to his actions, an unfamiliar twinge of something stirred within Matt, that of which he had never experienced before; a certain feeling of...what was it? 'Lust' didn't really seem like the word to describe it, but there was definitely something sending shivers up his spine and making him subconsciously rub against Mello as they kissed. The more contact, the stronger this feeling became. His body moved as though on autopilot. Gods, he was so hot... When had it suddenly become so hot? His breath came out in short, ragged gasps, and he could only think of how badly he longed for the boy beneath him at that moment. How good it felt when he moved beneath Matt, trying -and failing- to free himself once more. As their bodies pressed closely together, Matt could feel a familiar blissful wave of heat collect in his groin, which tempted him to continue rubbing himself blindly against the blond beneath him. It felt so good, so wanted. Yet he knew the heat was a starting point, the one warning before one ventured past the point of no return. It was the moment where you either had to give in or summon the near-impossible willpower it took to stop.

And judging from past experiences, Matt had about four seconds.

As though he'd been electrocuted, the redhead roughly and swiftly pulled himself away from the surprised blond, breaking their kiss. He sat up, panting, his face red and his heart hammering. Mello regarded him with a curious, slightly concerned, look. "Are you okay?" he asked, reaching over to touch the other boy's face.

Almost like a reflex, Matt flinched away, sure that one more touch from the blond would send him past that point he had so narrowly avoided just now. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. It's just, uh, I think I heard a car pull in the driveway..."

As if on cue, the loud squeal of tires in the driveway alerted the two enraptured boys that they were about to be joined by another party. Hastily, Matt jumped up as though he'd touched a hot wire, and quickly straightened his clothing and smoothed down his hair. Mello did the same, and both boys frantically checked themselves in the mirrors, praying that the pink in their faces would disappear by the time Matt's uncle saw them that evening.

As soon as the clinking of keys in a lock was evident, both boys exchanged a nervous glance at each other and began the trudge downstairs. Matt stared down shamefully at the floor, trying not to think of exactly what he'd felt up there. The blond seemed equally chagrined, and more sober than usual. The events upstairs had obviously surprised him as well.

Matt had experienced those feelings with Alex before, but they hadn't been nearly so potent then. What he'd just felt back there had startled him, though -thinking back- it shouldn't come as a surprise. The sort of reaction was expected; friction equals pleasure. He mentally noted that he would need to be very careful with just how far he and Mello went, to avoid accidentally overstepping boundaries that Matt didn't feel needed or were ready to be crossed at this point.

When they arrived downstairs, a tall, brown-haired man was just making his way through the door, a briefcase in one hand and keys in another. Shutting the door behind him, he set his suitcase down on the floor and proceeded with hanging his hat on the stand by the door, before shrugging out of his large trench coat and leaving it to join the hat. As he bustled about for a few minutes, he didn't seem to register the two boys standing awkwardly at the foot of the stairs. They weren't completely ready for him to notice them yet (as they weren't quite sure if the pink was gone from their faces) so they simply stood, waiting for him to finish putting things away.

Finally, the tall man -after setting his briefcase in a room to the side- glanced up and was taken aback by the two silent boys at the stairs. However, his face soon lit up into a welcoming smile. He was rather young, the dark brown hair on his head not yet showing the onsets of balding, though the signs of aging were faint against the youthful features of his face. There were a few wrinkles scattered here and there, but the man could be judged as no more than in his mid-thirties. "Matt," the man addressed the redhead, and Mello was surprised to find that the man didn't call his own nephew by his real name. He wondered if he did it by request of Matt. "I'm sorry I took a little longer than usual getting home," he explained. "Late day at the office again." Taking no longer than that to speak to his nephew, the man's eyes traveled to the blond behind him. "Ah, and you must be the famous 'Mello' I keep hearing so much about?" His smile warmed as he greeted the boy.

Mello could feel the blush creeping up his face. Had Matt really talked about him that much? "Um, yes..." He offered a friendly smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Feel free to call me Marc. I'm so glad to finally be meeting one of Matt's friends. He _never_ brings anyone home, so you must be quite a good friend," he said, giving a small chuckle.

Mello noted that he had only referred to him as a friend, and he glanced at Matt as though wondering if he was going to correct him. The redhead just blushed a little, but didn't say anything. Had he not told his uncle that they were together? Had he not even told him he liked boys?

"So, who's ready for supper?" Marc said, clapping his hands together. "I thought that lasagna would be good for the occasion, non?"

Matt could see Mello's mouth practically watering at the mere prospect. "That sounds delicious," he said.

"Très bien." Marc paused, and then waved his hands toward the kitchen. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he said. "Go on, it'll be ready in a little while. Make yourselves at home, watch TV...whatever teenage boys do at this age." As they began to walk down the hall, Marc continued his felicitous chatter. "Feel free to go outside, but not after dark, mind you. Well...okay, after dark. But take a flashlight. Go to bed whenever you want, I'll be asleep like a log, so it won't matter to me how much noise you make. Eat whatever, whenever, do whatever. D'accord?" The three of them reached the -surprisingly spotless- kitchen, and Marc began to open cabinet after cabinet, pulling out ingredients and utensils for the meal. "There are absolutely no rules whatsoever in this house. Wait, yes, just one: don't break the law or do anything otherwise illegal, compris?"

"Yes," Matt said with a lazy roll of his eyes. Mello could tell that he had heard his uncle's long rants a lot. Hoping to spare them of any more, Matt took Mello by the arm and announced that they would be going outside until dinner was ready. His uncle agreed, waving them off with promises to call them when it was done.

"I'm _so_ sorry about him," Matt apologized profusely as the screen door slammed shut behind them a few moments later.

"Oh, I don't mind. He seems nice," Mello replied, plopping down in the swing on the porch. As he sat down, he studied the thing a few moments, moving slightly as though to test its weight limit. "I've never seen one of these before..." he said, almost incredulously. "Living in the city and all. It's kind of neat." He smiled and began the childish tactic of swinging a little too high, succeeding only in firing up Matt's already fragile nerves. The redhead was quick to deflate Mello's childlike curiosity by abruptly stopping the swing and sitting down beside Mello to ensure that he wouldn't try it again.

"You're no fun," Mello pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and sticking out his lower lip.

"And you're a child."

"But that just makes me all the more adorable, right?" Mello said sweetly, batting his eyelashes at Matt.

The other boy gave a single exasperated roll of his eyes. "I'm so not answering that question."

"Come on, you know the answer is yeeeeeeees..." Mello sang, poking Matt playfully in the forehead. "You know you looooooooove my childish naaaatuuuurrrre!..."

"Shut up," Matt grumbled, swatting Mello's hand away.

The blond pretended to be hurt. "Ouch... You're being mean!" he whined. "And here I thought you'd changed since last summer!"

"I haven't changed, you idiot."

"But you seemed so cheerful when I arrived. You're never cheerful," Mello pointed out.

"I am too!" Matt protested. "And I was happy when you came..." He trailed off as he realized Mello would win this argument undoubtedly. "But now that you're here, there's no more excitement," he deadpanned, crossing his arms in a dignified manner.

"That's no fair! Are you saying I'm boring?" Mello asked in mock offense. "Well you're not exactly the funnest person to be around yourself, you know."

"I am quite aware of that," Matt replied flatly.

"Fun-sucker."

"Wha...what did you call me?" The redhead asked in surprise.

"Fun-sucker," Mello repeated. "Meaning that you suck the fun out of anything and everything."

"I am not!"

"FUN-SUCKER," Mello insisted, jumping up from the swing with a childish giggle. "Fun-sucker, fun-sucker, fun-sucker!" He chanted.

"Shut up!" Matt griped, glaring the blond's way.

"Fuuuuun-suuuuckerr!"

"Gods, would you shut it!" Matt snapped, pulling Mello down towards him and capturing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Parting only for a breath of air, Matt gasped, "You stupid child."

"Who are you calling a child?" Mello said.

"You _are_ a child," Matt informed him. "You act enough like one, anyway."

Mello grinned. "Better than being a fun-sucker."

Before Matt had a chance to retort, a voice called to them from the house. "DINNER!"

"Yay, I'm hungry!" Mello piped up, and before Matt could protest, the blond was sprinting in the house in search of food.

Such a child.

But Matt loved him.

XxX

Matt didn't look for dinner to be the highlight of his evening, but he deemed it something he would have to endure. Quite surprisingly, though, his uncle didn't ask nearly as many questions as the redhead had predicted. Marc seemed to realize that there was a certain limit as to what Matt could take, and thorough inquiry of his friend was a big 'no'.

"So, Mello, what do your parents do for work?" Marc asked nonchalantly as an attempt at polite conversation, while the three of them ate the lasagna, which was cooked surprisingly to perfection for a man to have been in charge of it.

Mello -who had had a piece of the delicacy he called food halfway to his mouth- froze and set his fork back down. His answer was slightly reluctant. "Um, well...they're unemployed."

"Unemployed?" Marc repeated, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Well, they find odd jobs here and there, but they don't really have anything set in stone..." Mello shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Matt racked his brains to find possible ways to save him from the conversation. None came to him.

"I see. So, you say you're from Berlin?"

"Yes," Mello answered, giving a mental sigh of relief that the topic had changed to something less personal. "I live with my mother in Berlin, and then my father in Munich during the summer."

"I see," Marc said, and the two boys could tell that he was quite fond of those two words. "Now, why do people call you Mello?" he asked. "Just out of curiosity."

"Oh, well..." Mello gave a small laugh, casting a sideways glance at Matt. "My friend Emil gave it to me, when we were younger, because I always used to like this drink..."

Why did the mention of the jealous little leech Emil send Matt into an internal fit of rage? Hadn't he gotten over the whole ordeal at camp by now? He had thought that he and Emil had made amends, and that the ground between them was neutral now. Still, discovering that Emil was the reason behind Mello's nickname made Matt furious. He didn't want the other boy to own any part of Mello, including his name.

It took Matt a few seconds before he realized he was being spoken to.

"..what?" he said, jerking out of his daze with a start. "What is it?"

Mello laughed, clearly amused with Matt's spaciness. "I was asking your uncle why your nickname was Matt," he replied, and then giggled. "A TV show character? Really?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, Gods... It was just this stupid show I used to watch. One of the characters was, and I..." he grumbled to himself. "...and it sounded a whole hell of a lot better than 'Mail', in the English language."

"I get it," Mello said, though Matt could tell it was taking a great deal of the blond's self control not to burst out laughing.

The rest of the dinner conversation continued in a similar fashion, and Matt was only too grateful when they had cleaned their plates, and his uncle excused them from the table. The redhead took no hesitation in dragging Mello up to his room, where a paused video game was still awaiting them on the screen. "I'm sorry about all the questions," Matt started.

"Oh, stop apologizing," Mello griped, plopping down on the bed. "I like it here. Your uncle isn't so bad, really. Pays more attention to me than my own parents. It's nice."

"Nice?" Matt repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, nice," Mello insisted. "Stop worrying."

Matt glanced at the clock on his bedside table: eight-thirty. His uncle would probably go to bed around nine, he deduced, and then he and Mello would have the entire house and its contents to themselves. This thought pleased him greatly, though the incident earlier still had him bothered. Though Matt didn't know what had him so terrified; feeling like that was normal, wasn't it? That was what was supposed to happen when you were in a physical situation like that. It was to be expected.

So why did it scare the complete shit out of him when he thought about it?

He'd never been...intimate...with anyone before. Even his and Alex's bouts of physicalness had been limited to just kissing and touching. It had never gone farther than that. Yet, even when it had become a little more, or when they'd found themselves in a situation similar to where Matt had been with Mello earlier, Matt had never felt that way. Sure, he'd liked it a hell of a lot, he'd felt those small twinges of attraction, but he'd never become so...hot. So desperate for...

For what?

For Mello, that was what.

The fact of the matter was, Matt was a teenage boy, and teenage boys thought about one thing and one thing only.

SEX.

It wasn't like he could rightly ignore that need, especially if he and Mello were ever in that situation again. The need had already informed Matt that it was pretty much out of his control. They hadn't even gone that far, though! They had just been kissing...really heavily. Surely something as small as that couldn't turn Matt on! It had, though, and Matt couldn't discern whether it would happen again. The prospect wasn't a pleasant one, and he sure as hell didn't want to mention it to Mello. Mello was practically a child... The thought of sex with him was just...

Well, in all honestly, it was appealing.

_That _was what frightened Matt.

Mello seemed like such a child, and yet Matt was contemplating sex. Sex with a child.

'_Stop being silly_' he scolded himself. '_He may act like a child at times, but he's still the same age as you. It's not pedophilia, for Christ's sake._'

Could Matt even picture Mello _wanting _sex, though? His nature made these thoughts seem very unlikely, though Matt reminded himself that Mello was a teenage boy as well, so sex must be on his mind at some point throughout the day.

Sex, sex, sex.

Jesus, he was using that word a lot lately. He really needed to think about something else. He couldn't rightly just forget it though, as Mello _was_ sitting quite near him, and he was quite beautiful. Matt's mouth suddenly went dry.

"Heyyy..." Matt felt a sudden poke to his forehead. "Spacey McSpacer, pay attention to me."

"Wha...huh?" The redhead was once again brought unceremoniously back to earth, and he shook his head viciously to clear his thoughts. His perverted, pedophile thoughts. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Now, if your attention is focused back to the present now, I was asking you a question."

"Oh, uh – right. What is it?" Matt asked, his thoughts thoroughly muddled.

"Forget it. What were you thinking about just now, anyway?"

_'Ah, and we come to the center of the shrubbery maze...' _If Matt was correct, Stewie had said the exact same thing on Family Guy once. Dammit, Stewie was a child. Mello was like a child. Thinking of child-Stewie brought his thoughts back to child-like Mello.

Shit.

"Ah, nothing important," Matt lied.

"Nothing important my ass. You were staring off into space like a schoolgirl ogling her professor."

"Sorry, I uh – I'm just tired, I guess. I didn't mean to drift off like that," Matt said.

"Something isn't wrong, is it?" Mello sighed.

"No, nothing's wrong," Matt assured him. "Just tired."

"If you say so..." Mello yawned and stretched out on the bed with his hands secured behind his head. "I can't believe your uncle is just letting us do whatever we want. Is he usually so lenient?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Matt replied, going over to his -quite roomy- closet and searching for a large shirt to wear.

"Man, my parents would _never_ give me so much freedom," Mello commented.

"Yeah, well maybe that's because _I _don't act like a giant _toddler_," Matt suggested, beginning to undress.

Mello simply stuck his tongue out. "You just don't know how to have fun."

"I do too," Matt argued, pulling the clean shirt over his head and shrugging out of his jeans. He tossed them carelessly into a pile in the corner, and went over to close the curtains against the darkening sky.

"Hey, Matt, come over here." Mello's sweet voice floated over from the bed.

"Hm? Why?"

"Just come over here," he said, a slight demanding tone in his voice.

Giving a heavy sigh, Matt trekked over to the bed and plopped down on his knees beside the blond. "What?"

Wordlessly, Mello reached up and gripped the collar of Matt's shirt, jerking him down and pressing their lips together. The sudden gesture startled Matt slightly, and for a minute he stayed completely still. Then he felt himself melting, sliding forward, and suddenly there was no space between his and the blond's bodies, Mello's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, keeping him pinned down without hope of release. His heart thudded wildly against his chest, and Matt yelped a little as he felt the other boy's nails in his back. Soon, their tongues were engaged in a battle with little recognition of whose was whose. The all too familiar feeling of earlier washed over Matt, and he tried to break free of the position without Mello noticing what he was attempting to do.

Quickly, he detached himself from the clingy blond, panting heavily, and Mello looked at him curiously.

"S-sorry," Matt breathed in a quick apology.

"What's wrong?" Mello's brow furrowed in concern as he took note of the redhead's flushed face.

"N-nothing." Matt shook his head, hoping he could simply get away from the situation without further inquiry from Mello.

"You're acting strange..." The other boy commented, brushing the hair from Matt's face.

"I'm fine, really," Matt assured him, hopping off of the bed. Mello sat up and followed his movements unflinchingly with his striking blue eyes. Matt took great care to avoid meeting them, knowing that he couldn't lie once he did; as pathetic as ever, he never could lie to those beautiful eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, unconvinced by Matt's fake attitude. The blond walked over and wrapped his arms affectionately around Matt, resting his chin on the other boy's shoulder.

"Yeah, just tired. It's late, we should probably go to sleep."

"But it's not even nine o'cl-"

"It's been a long day, tired," Matt said quickly, nonchalantly shrugging out of Mello's arms and walking over to the bed, pulling down the covers to reveal the appealing red satin sheets beneath. He thought he saw an irritated frown cross the blond's face, but ignored it. "Oh, um..." He stopped as he suddenly realized something.

Mello's brow furrowed further as Matt hesitated at the bed. "Hm, what is it?" he asked.

"Uh, well, we..." Matt trailed off.

The other boy cocked his head to the side, still wondering what was provoking Matt's strange behaviour. "What is it?" He repeated, crossing his arms over his chest. The two boys continued staring wordlessly at each other for a few moments, and then Mello suddenly caught on. "Oooh..." His blue eyes widened briefly in understanding, and then he found his own expression to closely resemble Matt's, as both boys contemplated the situation.

They had never slept in the same bed before.

_Ever._

"Um, I can...sleep in another room if you want," Mello offered slowly.

"No, no – it's fine, you don't have to do that," Matt quickly contradicted, shaking his head.

"You sure?" Mello raised an eyebrow, once more unsure of the honesty of Matt's statements.

"Yeah, really. Um, it's no problem." Secretly, he liked the thought of the blond sleeping beside him, but then the thoughts of his...responses...to being close to Mello began to resurface, and he found himself wondering if it was a good idea to be sleeping so near to him. He shrugged it off quickly, telling himself that as long as they didn't start kissing, there should be no immediate problem with the arrangement. Then again, Mello was still quite a clingy person, and Matt was uncertain of whether his reactions were simply limited to kissing, or a wider range of physical contact. It seemed he would have to find out tonight.

Matt slowly crawled underneath the covers and waited for Mello to do the same. The satin was quite comfortable to sleep against, but it couldn't help but give the redhead more than simply PG-rated thoughts. Why was that, anyhow? It was just satin, for Christ's sake. Why did _satin_, above all things, give him dirty thoughts? He stopped no longer to ponder these curiosities, for fear that it may aide in his current problem. Once the blond was beside him, he reached over to turn out the bedside lamp, cloaking the room in immediate darkness, save the dim moonlight outside peeking through small slits in the curtains and making eerie shadows dance across the polished hardwood floor.

With every intention of falling asleep as soon as possible, to save himself the torment of his thoughts, Matt turned over on his side and closed his eyes tightly shut – as if somehow by doing this he could block out his mind as well. Of course, as one is surely well aware of, it is only when one is trying so desperately to fall asleep that one finds that they absolutely cannot sleep at all. Matt discovered this about ten minutes later, whilst lying wide awake and staring at the white ceiling of the room, memorizing the complicated pattern etched into the wood. However hard he tried to divert his attention elsewhere, his thoughts continued to unwillingly stray to the sleeping boy beside him. The redhead hadn't glanced over at Mello once, hoping that by doing so his thoughts mayn't be so painfully vivid. Despite his wavering attempts, the thoughts were still clear as daylight against the hazy muddle that was his mind.

It was only while praying desperately for sleep (not that Matt was the religious sort), that the redhead felt something nudge his side and he looked over -involuntarily- to see the blond curled up close against him, his hair shielding most of his face as he slept. Taking a deep breath, Matt tried not to think of the situation, but Mello's warm breath against his arm constantly brought him back to reality, however much he wanted to escape it. He honestly didn't think he'd ever seen or felt _anyone_ so impossibly irresistible.

Things had changed so much since camp, it was hard to believe. Even little things he hadn't noticed before, like the dimples in Mello's cheeks when he smiled, or the way his hair always fell in his face, were now so apparent. Was it possible...that Matt had fallen even more in love with Mello since the previous summer? Was it simply that being without him so long had caused Matt to pay extra attention to these insignificant details of the boy, and to respond so strongly when physically close to him? It was a possibility, though a slim one. Matt honestly didn't know what was provoking his reactions and thoughts lately, other than the usual teenage-boy complex.

Giving an inward groan to himself, he pressed his face deep into the pillow, with every intention of suffocating himself to sleep. It must have worked, because a few minutes later his arms went limp and the soft sounds of light snoring could be heard throughout the room.

-End of Chapter 1-

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><p><strong>I want to apologize for the boringness of this chapter, but the story had to start somewhere ;; I'm not too satisfied with the first couple of chapters, but I'm too lazy to rewrite them.<strong>

**Translations:**

**(all French)**

**'Très bien' –_ very well/good  
><em>****'D'accord?' - _okay?  
><em>****'Compris?' -_ understood?_**


	2. Matt's Devious Thoughts

**I'm sorry for the lateness of this, I swear I thought I had uploaded it last week, but I realised I forgot to publish it eue; **

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><p>Kapitel 02<br>**Chapter 2**

Matts sündige Gedanken  
>"<strong>Matt's Devious Thoughts"<br>**_Les pensées perverses de Matt_

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><p>The next morning, Matt was awoken by the bright, intruding sunlight now streaming in from the window. For a minute, he just lay there with his eyes tightly closed, trying arduously to shut out the light and go back to sleep. He knew even as he tried that it would be a futile effort. All too soon, he caught a strong whiff of bacon drifting up from downstairs, and realized his uncle must be cooking breakfast. His stomach growled accordingly, and Matt gave in to defeat, deciding that more sleep would be hopeless. The scent of the food was painfully nice and welcoming. It gave him a rather homey feeling.<p>

As all of his senses slowly came back to him, he felt an arm draped flaccidly across his chest, no doubt belonging to the blond still resting in the bed beside him. How he even registered the other boy was there in his state, Matt didn't know. Perhaps he'd never forgotten the blond's presence, or maybe Matt had fallen asleep thinking about him. Still half-asleep and reluctant to face the tell-tale signs of cold he could feel through the thin sheets, Matt twisted around in the satin covers and buried his face against Mello's shirt, welcoming the pleasant warmth against him. Matt wrapped his own arm around the blond's thin waist and pulled himself closer until his body was pressed right up against Mello's. He could hear the blond's deep, soft breathing very close, and stared up into his angelic face, simply watching Mello sleep. The other boy's long black eyelashes brushed lightly against his flushed cheeks, his mouth slightly open and one of his hands resting just beside his face, half-closed.

Mello looked like such an angel when he slept; so peaceful, and innocent, so...childlike.

Unfortunately for Matt, he was wide awake now, no longer safe from his troubled thoughts. He groaned and rolled over on his back, an arm lazily draped across his forehead. Glancing briefly at the bedside clock, he saw that it was eight o'clock in the morning: much earlier than he preferred to rise. Maybe if he tried really hard, he could fall asleep for a few more hours.

No such luck. It seemed he would have to endure the torment that his mind was suffering. Giving a small sigh, he turned his head to look at Mello, and reached over to brush the other boy's light blond hair with his fingertips. It was soft, thin. Matt noted his own -now disheveled- hair, which more than often stayed greasy and un-brushed. Come to think of it, it probably smelled, too. Mello definitely out-shined him as far as looks went, that was for sure. The redhead made a mental note to take a shower soon. As he twirled a strand of the other boy's hair around his forefinger, Matt heard Mello mutter something in his sleep. It was soft, barely audible, but no doubt words. German, by the sound of it. His brow furrowed as though he was in pain, and he twitched a little subconsciously. Matt derived it as the onsets of a nightmare, but thought better against waking Mello up in case the blond turned out to be the type of person who didn't like being interrupted during sleep. For now, at least, Matt would let him sleep-talk.

"N-nein..."

"Hm?" Matt's gaze scrutinized slightly, and he watched Mello's face carefully for expression. His eyes were closed a little tighter than necessary, and his previously half-closed hand was now tightly clutching the pillowcase. His inaudible murmurs were becoming louder.

"N-nein, bitte..." The blond gave a small moan and rolled over on his back, his grip on the pillow tightening. "B-bitte, nein...nein, nein, nein..." His breathing started to quicken, coming out in short pants.

Now concerned, Matt sat up in the bed and watched as Mello started to twist and turn slightly in the covers. "Nein!" The blond cried, a pained look suddenly enveloping his face. "Bitte, nein!" His thrashing became more violent, and Matt attempted -without much success- to restrain him as he began to kick against the covers. "NEIN!" his terrified pleading sent a shiver down Matt's spine. The blond's protests and shouts became longer and more shrill as he cried out, full sentences now, all in German. Matt could only catch snatches of the slurred, frantic words. "Stop!", "Hilf, bitte!", "Nein!", "Hilf mir!".

Anxiously, Matt hovered over the other boy, with no idea whatsoever about what he should do. He'd never encountered anyone else having a nightmare as severe as this before. The redhead had had his own, obviously, but he wasn't awake to see how he thrashed about and yelled in his sleep. "Mello...?" he said softly, reaching over to touch the other boy's face as his movement and kicking ceased for a moment. His blond bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat, and he was breathing deeply, the pained look still resting on his face.

"NEIN!" He cried, and then Matt caught the words, "Don't touch me!" embedded into the long string of German swear words that were screamed at him in the next second.

Flinching away, Matt waited for the fit to be over before he ventured near the blond again. He decided he should probably allow Mello to wake up on his own, for fear of being violently assaulted.

For a while, the muttering and thrashing continued, though not as vicious as before. By now, the covers were falling halfway off of the bed and Matt had angry red marks on his arms from where he'd been inadvertently scratched in his attempts to wake the other boy. Mello shouted and thrashed for a few more minutes, and finally, the blond snapped awake.

Panting like crazy, his hand to his chest, Mello shot straight up in bed and stared across the room with wide eyes. Unsure of whether the blond was fully awake yet, or still in a mixed haze of scattered pieces of his dream, Matt cautiously reached a hand over and rested it on Mello's shoulder. The other boy's head immediately snapped in his direction, and an expression of heavy relief crossed Mello's face when he saw Matt beside him. Before the redhead could even say anything, Mello had thrown his arms around him and was sobbing loudly into his shoulder.

As the blond shook against him, Matt wrapped his arms securely around the other boy and pulled him close, not minding the wet spot now forming on the face of his shirt due to Mello's crying. Not knowing of anything to say, Matt simply sat wordlessly with Mello in his arms, allowing the blond to cry for as long as he needed. Mello had never had nightmares at camp, as far as Matt knew. He wondered why all of a sudden something like this had happened. Then again, it wasn't as if people didn't have the occasional nightmare; it was perfectly normal. Yet, Matt was sure that the 'occasional' nightmare didn't usually warrant the kicking and screaming that he had just seen.

After a good while, the other boy's sobs and heaves finally ceased to whimpers, and he relaxed in Matt's arms as the redhead comfortingly stroked his hair. For a few minutes, there was only silence in the room as Mello clung tightly to the other boy, the fragments of his dream slowly fading away. Then, the blond detached himself from Matt and wiped his tear-filled blue eyes with a shaking hand.

"Are you okay?" Matt asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Uh, yeah..." Mello nodded his head and brushed his wet bangs out of his face. "Just a dream." He rubbed the back of his neck, bringing his hand back to reveal glistening drops of sweat.

"Right..." Matt reached over and put a hand to Mello's forehead; it was cold, clammy. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mello assured him, though the spot between his eyes creased slightly, like he was thinking over something.

"Do you...want to talk about the dream?"

"Huh? Oh, uh – no, that's fine. I don't really remember it anyway," the blond replied, giving a fleeting smile before jumping out of the bed. "You don't mind if I take a shower, do you?" His cheerful voice had suddenly returned, with Mello acting like nothing within the past seven minutes had even happened.

"No, I don't mind," Matt said softly, watching Mello with a curious expression as the blond gathered up a clean change of clothes to take. "The bathroom is down the hall, to the left."

"'kay, thanks." Mello opened the door, but paused as he started to go out. He looked back at Matt, who hadn't moved from his spot, and then -as though making a decision- skipped over to the bed. Sitting on his knees in front of Matt, the blond swiftly leaned forward and kissed the other boy lightly on the cheek, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth afterwards. "Good morning, by the way," he said.

"Good morning." Matt managed a smile and placed a palm gently against the blond's cheek; soft skin beneath his fingertips.

"Tell your uncle to save some breakfast for me, okay?" Mello ordered as he turned and hurried back towards the doorway.

"Will do," Matt promised.

"Danke!" Mello's footsteps soon faded away as he padded down the hallway, and Matt immediately fell back against his pillow, breathing deeply. He hoped he wouldn't have to go through a similar ordeal every morning or other. As he lay there, he thought deeply for a minute, pondering the recent events. He'd only ever seen Mello cry once before: when he had confessed his feelings to Matt. This would make the second time, and Matt could already infer that it took a lot to make the blond cry that hard. So...what could the dream have been about?

Well, if Mello didn't want to talk about it, then Matt would leave it alone. It was obvious the other boy would just shy away from the conversation, so it would be no use to pester him about it. With a heavy sigh, the redhead kicked the covers off and dragged himself out of bed, the scent of bacon suddenly very appealing.

Xxx

When Matt arrived downstairs, he found his uncle standing over the stove, poking at something in a frying pan. Scratching his head of messed hair, Matt sat down at the table and rested his chin lazily in his hand. Taking an apple from the fruit basket resting in the center of the table, he began to twirl it around with his forefinger out of boredom. It spun as he desired for a few minutes, before finally straying away and rolling off the table. The thud alerted his uncle, who turned around and smiled at him. "Good morning. Hungry?"

"Mm." Matt gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, simply swiping another piece of fruit and beginning to twirl it the same way.

"Something wrong?" Marc asked, taking out china plates from the cabinet and setting them out on the counter.

"Non." Matt shook his head, watching as his current piece of fruit rolled away and fell near the apple.

"Stop that," his uncle said, picking up the abandoned fruit and returning them to the basket. "So where's your friend?"

"Taking a shower," Matt replied, stealing another apple when Marc turned his back to attend to the food.

"Ah. So you two slept well?" He asked.

"Yeah, we did." _Or, Mello did, at least. _"Hey," Matt began, suddenly remembering something. "Aren't you supposed to be at the office today? It's not one of your days off."

His uncle gave a small chuckle. "I'm going in late. I thought I'd make you two something to eat before I left."

"I could've made breakfast, you know," Matt reminded his uncle. "I'm perfectly capable of -"

"Taking care of yourself. I know, I know," his uncle said, giving a roll of his eyes. "But I like to do this." He smiled.

"The only reason I let you," the redhead informed him, getting up from his seat and going to the fridge, where he casually pulled out a cola.

"Soda in the morning?" Marc questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I know, not healthy." It was Matt's turn to roll his eyes, before opening the can and taking a long drink. "Neither is smoking, but you still do it."

"Trying to quit," His uncle defended himself.

"Sure, sure – you've been saying that since last summer." Matt leaned against the fridge and finished half the can in less than a minute.

There was silence for a few minutes, in which his uncle proceeded with cleaning the dishes and Matt finished the rest of the coke and chucked it in the nearby wastebasket.

"So," Marc began, drying one of the china plates. "Is Mello seeing anyone?"

If Matt had still been drinking the coke, he was sure he would have spewed it all across the floor. "Wh-what? No, no...h-he isn't. Why do you ask?" He was grateful his uncle couldn't see the blush firing up in his cheeks.

His uncle shrugged. "Just wondering. A boy like that, all the girls would like him."

"Um...yeah, I guess." Matt shifted uncomfortably. "But, no, he isn't."

"Hm. What about you?" Marc asked nonchalantly. "You meet any cute girls over the school year?"

Once again, Matt was sure he would have spit any drink he'd had out on the floor about now. "Uh, no – not really." He wondered why all the sudden questions, but then realized that Marc was probably just trying to make conversation. It wasn't as if he could automatically know that neither his nephew nor Mello were interested in girls.

"Well, my friend Jan has a really cute daughter, if you two ever -"

"Really, Marc, we're fine," Matt said, willing the red in his cheeks to disappear.

"If you say so," Marc said.

"I say so."

His uncle remained silent, finishing up the last of the dishes before heading out into the main hall. "Alright. I'll be heading to the office now. Breakfast is fixed, and you two can help yourselves to anything else lying around. I'll see you later, alright?" He picked his suitcase up from the hallway and began to slip on his coat.

"'kay," Matt responded, now leaning against the banister of the staircase as Marc prepared to go out.

"Stay out of trouble, alright?" He prompted.

"Like I _get_ into any trouble," Matt replied.

"Yeah, yeah." Marc opened the door. "I'll be home around eight, though if I don't have much work I'll probably be home in a few hours."

"'kay."

"Au revoir!" His uncle called jovially, closing the door behind him.

"Au revoir," Matt sighed. He blew a strand of hair out of his face, before trekking up the staircase towards his room. Sometimes he wanted to tell his uncle he didn't like girls; it would certainly spare him all of the 'do you have a girlfriend?' conversations. Then again, it was sometimes a lot less trouble to keep it from him, rather than explain everything.

Passing the bathroom on his way down the upstairs hall, Matt saw that the door was open, so he figured Mello must already be in the bedroom. Taking no longer to look than that, he padded down the hallway and arrived at the bedroom door. The redhead promptly entered without giving any sign of warning, which -in reality- knocking probably should have crossed his mind beforehand. However, Matt -being Matt- didn't even consider this common act of courtesy, so nothing except his own lack of manners was to blame when he walked right in on the sight that he probably only saw in his dreams.

Mello was completely naked.

"SHIT!" Matt immediately doubled back and averted his attention elsewhere, while Mello -who'd heard the door open and turned to see the other boy- promptly tripped and fell on the floor in his attempts to throw something around himself. "Sorry!" Matt apologized, his face burning from both embarrassment and shame. "Should've knocked."

"It's fine," Mello assured him, quickly throwing on a black T-shirt and pair of jeans while Matt stood awkwardly in the doorway with his eyes focused on the ceiling. When the redhead deemed it safe to look, he glanced back at the blond and felt his face turn an even deeper shade of bright pink.

"I uh – didn't see anything, if you were wondering..." Matt told him, shifting from foot to foot.

Mello shrugged, his cheeks flushed pink as well. "I wouldn't have cared, you know...if you had."

"I should've knocked," Matt repeated, startled by the blond's loose comment and subtle reaction to the situation. "Sorry."

"It's fine, really... So, uh – I smell food," Mello said brightly, at an attempt to change the topic of the conversation.

"Yeah, there's breakfast downstairs, and he said we could help ourselves to anything else," Matt replied, breathing a small inward sigh of relief.

"Come on – let's go then. I'm starving!" He anxiously grabbed Matt's hand and pulled him along as he sprinted out the door and down the stairs. The redhead did his best to keep up, nearly falling down the stairs as he was being dragged behind Mello. How the blond could always be so overly-energetic, Matt would never know.

They arrived downstairs, and Mello immediately scouted out the food, loading his plate full before sitting down at the table. Matt was still slightly pink from the events before, and slowly sat down in front of the blond, trying to force the image of Mello naked out of his mind. It was quite difficult, as the image rather liked being there.

"So did your uncle already go to work?" Mello asked Matt through a mouthful of food.

"Yeah, he'll be back around eight tonight," Matt replied, grabbing a piece of fruit and twirling it again. Anything to temporarily divert his attention from the boy in front of him.

"Cool, we get the house to ourselves." He flashed a smile. "It must be nice, not having anyone to tell you what to do, when to do it, or how to do it," Mello mused, picking a piece of bacon off the plate and stuffing it in his mouth. "My mom's always telling me what I can do better, and why I'm such an awful son. You've got it easy here. Your uncle pretty much just leaves you alone."

Matt gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, keeping his attention focused on the apple he was spinning around on the surface of the table. "It's not as great as you think. I never have anyone to talk to, and I always have to find ways to entertain myself. It's lonely. At least you have Emil during the school year."

"Don't you have friends?" Mello asked.

The redhead was silent for a moment. "Not really," he replied quietly. "I know it sounds bad to say, but I consider myself so much better than all of them in terms of intelligence, that I find it very difficult to relate to anyone enough for a friendship to develop."

Mello's brow creased in amusement. "What about me? I'm dumb as shit, and you hang around me."

"You aren't dumb," Matt said. "You simply act like a child; it doesn't mean you have the intelligence of one."

"Still, you should think about making you some friends. It couldn't hurt, could it?" Mello reasoned.

"I don't need friends."

Mello laughed, putting a hand to his mouth as he almost spit out food. "Everyone needs friends. That's a damn lie if I ever heard one."

"I know how it is, alright? You make friends, and they like you for a while; then they find out you're gay, and it's like you're a disease that they don't want to get close to." When Mello didn't respond, Matt fixed him with a steady gaze. "I went through that hell back in France. I'm not ready to experience it again. If people can't accept me for who I am, I don't see any point in bothering to befriend them in the first place, when I know they're going to turn their backs on me as soon as they find out."

The blond was quiet, picking at his food for a minute. "Not everyone is like that..." he said softly. "You said that yourself, last summer, remember?"

"Yeah, not everyone. But a damn good percentage of people."

"And you say you're not ashamed of it."

"I'm not ashamed of it. I just simply have no tolerance for people who can't and won't accept it."

"But you'll never know who accepts it or not if you just shun everyone by what you presume to be their opinion," Mello replied.

"It's too much trouble to find out. It's easier just not getting close to people."

"Does this have anything to do with Alex?" Mello asked, raising a knowing eyebrow.

Matt gave a particularly vicious spin to the apple, causing it to roll off the desk and split open on the hardwood floor. The redhead didn't bother cleaning it up. "Not everything has to do with Alex," he said rather venomously.

"Just asking. No need to get defensive," the blond said. He cleaned the last scraps from his plate, and then looked over at Matt with a questioning expression. "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Not hungry," Matt replied, picking up what he could of the destroyed apple and tossing it in the wastebasket.

A concerned look flitted across the blond's face, and he went over to Matt, wrapping his arms affectionately around the redhead's waist. "Hey...why are you in such an irritable mood this morning?" He asked, pouting slightly. "I mean, I know you aren't the most cheerful person in the world – but you're usually not _this_ depressed."

"I'm not depressed," Matt said flatly, shrugging out of Mello's hold and walking into the living room, where he went over to open a window and let fresh air in the stuffy house.

"Could've fooled me," Mello muttered. He plopped down on the couch and turned the television to a random channel, watching a bit of what was on, and moving on to another channel when he lost interest in the previous one. The blond continued this cycle for a few minutes, before Matt irritably swiped the remote out of his hands and tossed it over in another chair.

"Hey! What was that for?" Mello protested.

"You were annoying me," Matt responded.

"You get annoyed too easily," the blond commented. As the redhead turned to walk away, Mello suddenly reached over and wrapped his arms around him again, pulling him down into his lap on the couch.

"Wha – hey!" Matt cried, surprised by the sudden gesture. He attempted to wriggle out of the blond's arms, but Mello only tightened his hold this time, refusing to let Matt escape. Giving a defeated sigh, Matt simply leaned back in the other boy's arms, resting against him.

"Is something wrong?" Mello asked, smoothing back the other boy's reddish-brown hair.

Matt shook his head, shifting around to where his whole body was on the couch and laying his head in Mello's lap. The other boy's fingers sifted through his hair, gently massaging his scalp and sending waves of pleasure and calmness throughout his body. Giving a contented sigh, Matt closed his eyes and was suddenly aware of soft humming above him. He listened for a while, drifting in and out of sleep. As the redhead began to fall asleep, Mello leaned forward and kissed him softly on the cheek. "I love you," he whispered, brushing the hair away from Matt's face with his fingertips.

"I love you, too," Matt replied, reaching for Mello's hand and holding it close to his face. Opening his eyes slightly, the redhead took a careful look at the other boy's hand for what was probably the first time. His fingers were long, thin, smooth. Matt banished the word 'girly' from his mind, and gazed at the blond's hand for a few more moments. It was delicate, soft...perfect. Just like everything else about him. Only Mello's hand would bring about such fascination from him, Matt reasoned. Giving another small sigh to himself, he laced his fingers together with the blond's own perfect ones, and simply lay there silently for a while, listening to the low humming from above him. Suddenly, Matt recognized the tune. "Tu es Toujours Là," he whispered.

"I figured you'd know the song." Mello smiled.

"When did you ever listen to Tina Arena?" Matt asked bemusedly.

"I sifted through some of your CDs before you came up to the room earlier. I didn't know you liked that kind of music."

"Are you making fun of me?"

The blond gave a small laugh. "No, of course not. It was good music." He was silent for a minute. "Say...what does it mean? 'Tu es toujours là'?"

The redhead held silence for a moment too, before finally answering, "It means, 'you are always there'."

"Hm." Mello pondered this for a minute. "Why do people say French is the language of love?"

"I have no idea," Matt said.

"Well you're French. You should know," Mello reasoned.

"I don't think the French were the ones who started that saying," the redhead replied.

Mello smiled and continued playing with Matt's hair, still humming softly to himself. "I like this, having the house to ourselves. Don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's nice," Matt agreed. "Though there isn't much we can do."

"Ah, but I beg to differ," the blond said.

Curious, Matt raised his head up to look at the other boy. The familiar devilish grin was lighting up his face again, as it always did when he was scheming something. "What do you have in mind?" the redhead asked.

"This house is pretty big. There's got to be tons of stuff lying around. Don't you have an attic?"

Matt sat up and rubbed the back of his neck, which was sore from lying down, and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah...why?"

The blond's grin widened, and he jumped off the couch. "Let's go, then!" he said, tugging on Matt's hand like a kindergartner.

"I don't know..." Matt began uncertainly. "What could be interesting in the attic?"

"Tons of stuff! Old clothes, photo albums, all kinds of things you never knew were up there."

"I guess..." Matt agreed hesitantly.

"Come on!" Mello gave his hand another tug and started off towards the hallway. "Where's the attic?"

"I still don't know if this is a good idea..."

"What's the harm? Your uncle said we could do whatever we wanted, right?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Then what's the worry? Come on!"

Seeing no other reason to argue, Matt gave a heavy sigh of defeat and allowed himself to be dragged along by the other boy.

Xxx

"I think it's somewhere over here..." Matt said, opening various doors along the wall upstairs, with Mello following closely in his footsteps like an eager little kid at snack time. Every other door the redhead had opened only revealed yet another extra bedroom or bathroom.

"You mean you've never even been in your own attic?" Mello asked in disbelief.

"Well, no. I've barely been anywhere except my own room and the kitchen," Matt replied, opening another door with no success. "I barely even know my way around this place."

"Hell, if my house were this big, I'd be explorin'!"

"You'd get bored eventually," Matt reasoned. "Ah, here it is!" He opened a door to the left, to reveal a staircase leading up to what must be the attic. "This way," Matt instructed, nodding towards the staircase.

The two boys climbed slowly up the creaky stairs, watching for what were probably loose steps along the way, and arrived at the top to find themselves in total darkness.

"Shit," Matt muttered, scrambling around for a light switch, stumbling and tripping painfully in the process. He finally discovered one on the wall, and flicked it on to fill the room with a dim light, which blinded them slightly after being shrouded in darkness.

Once their eyes adjusted to the light, the two boys looked around the attic. It was a large room, with about an inch of dust covering everything in sight. Various boxes were strewn about in no particular order, and old furniture was pushed up against the walls, some covered with dusty old sheets. They coughed slightly, inhaling a bit of the stale, stifling air.

"It's hot up here," Matt complained.

Mello was too busy overturning chairs and sifting through boxes to notice. Even when Matt warned that there were probably poisonous spiders lurking in the boxes, the blond wasn't deterred from searching thoroughly in every one of them. It was clear he wasn't going to abandon the attic anytime soon. Giving another sigh, Matt sat down in one of the covered chairs, sending a cloud of dust up into the air that made him cough.

"Hey, look what I found!" Mello cried suddenly, pulling out an old picture frame from one of the boxes. "Is this your uncle when he was younger?"

When Matt went over and took a closer look, he saw a man -more of a teenage boy, actually- standing in front of a house that he'd never seen before. Judging from the colour of the picture, the photograph was taken a while back. "Uh, I guess. I dunno what he looked like back then," he said, giving a shrug.

"Come on, why don't you look around?" Mello asked, replacing the photo in its rightful box and moving on to another spot.

"Eh, you have fun," Matt told him. "I'm not very adventurous."

The blond rolled his eyes as he pulled out a leather-bound book from one of the other boxes. "Hey, check it out! Someone's diary!" He laughed and flipped a few pages, before stopping and scanning a random one. "Shit, it's in French. You come here and read it," Mello ordered.

His curiosity slightly peaked, Matt went over and took the diary from Mello, reading a passage to himself. _His hands were so soft, gentle... It's like nothing I've ever experienced before. I honestly thought we'd just go back and talk or something, but then he took me to his place, and well... It was so amazing, this experience: and he made it so gentle, and sensual. It was like -_

"What's it say!" Mello asked eagerly.

"Nothing," Matt said quickly, putting it back in the box with a disgusted look on his face.

"Haha, whose diary was that anyway? Your aunt's?"

"Hm? No, I never had an aunt. It's probably my mom's journal. My uncle kept a lot of her things when she died..."

"Oh..." Mello's expression sobered a little. "...is that the reason you didn't want to come up here?"

The redhead stiffened a little, and was quiet for a few moments. "I don't much like thinking about it," he replied at last.

"Oh. I'm sorry... We can go, if you want..." he began.

"No, it's fine." Matt smiled. "Let's look around some more. Just -please- no more diaries."

The blond grinned. "No more diaries, then."

The two boys dug through a majority of the old boxes, which were mostly full of photographs, books, and -as Matt had warned Mello- lurking spiders. He'd never thought the blond to be one afraid of spiders. Actually, yes, he had expected Mello to be arachnaphobic. Matt was pleased to find that his suspicion was correct. After the first few incidents, the blond refused to look in any of the boxes until Matt had declared them spider-free.

Then they found the trunk.

It was old, rusty, and the lock was broken, so it was fairly easy to get into. Mello immediately shrank back as Matt opened the lid, as though expecting thousands of the tiny little eight-legged creatures to spring up and attack. "Check for spiders!" he said.

Rolling his eyes, Matt sifted through the trunk for a minute, resisting the impulse to fake being bitten by a tarantula or something – just to scare the other boy. "Alright, it's clear," he said flatly, and Mello immediately crawled over beside him and began digging in the trunk himself.

"Oh my God – hey, hey – check this out!" He pulled out some flannel material from the trunk and stood up, holding it up to his chin. It was then that Matt realized it was a dress. A yellow and pink, polka-dotted sun-dress.

"Wow...Mello, it blends in so perfectly with your hair!" Matt commented in mock-amazement, standing up and pulling the boy over to a floor length mirror that was placed near them.

"Well, I say, it does look rather dashing," Mello replied, imitating a really bad British accent, and strutting about the mirror with the dress held up to his body. However a moment later an excited grin lit up his face. "Ooh – I have an idea! Wait here!" Before Matt even had time to reply, Mello had taken the sun-dress and dashed downstairs.

A few minutes later, Matt could hear footsteps on the staircase, and a voice behind him announced, "Well, what do you think?"

When Matt turned around, he almost died of laughter.

"I think it looks rather charming, don't you, darling?" Mello said, still impersonating the British accent with the air of a smug rich lady.

"Why, yes, my dear – it rather suits you," Matt replied, stifling laughter and playing along with the British act – only his voice was deep, not high-pitched like Mello's. He went over and stood behind the blond at the mirror, watching as he twirled around in the dress, studying himself. "It shows off those wonderful legs of yours and makes your bosom look so much fuller!"

At this, Mello pulled up the thin cotton material to show off one of his legs, flexing it in the air. "Why, yes, I know. Doesn't it?" He pretended to push up an imaginary bosom and studied his figure in the mirror. Going back to dig in the trunk, he pulled out a scarf, umbrella, and a pair of big, rectangular sunglasses. "Now, we are to meet the Watson's tonight for tea, and after that we shall have a lovely game of Scrabble." He pushed the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and swiped a white sun-hat off a nearby rack, placing it on his head. "Splendid night, splendid. And after that, we shall go home and make beautiful love together!" He feigned a dramatic swoon and fell back into Matt's unsuspecting arms, draping an arm across his forehead. "Ah, alas, I have fainted. You must carry me to the settee."

"The hell I do," Matt snorted, attempting to let go of the blond and drop him on the floor.

"Ah, but you must!" Mello cried in his high-pitched voice. "If you leave me here, I surely will get ill!" He grabbed a hold of Matt's shirt and clung there, until the redhead finally carried him over to the dusty sofa and plopped him down amidst the dirty white sheets.

"Yet, I feel I am catching cold..." Mello said. "You must fetch me some water, darling."

"Ah, but alas I am so tired and lazy," Matt replied, feigning a yawn and stretching out on the sofa. "I fear you will have to get it yourself."

"Well what if I were to give you a reward?" Mello replied, a devilish smile curling at the edges of his lips.

Matt returned the grin, biting back a laugh. "And what might this reward be?" he inquired.

The blond promptly shifted to where he was sitting up, and leaned in towards Matt. "Perhaps you close your eyes and I show you," he suggested.

Doing as he was told, Matt closed his eyes, as the other boy moved forward and captured his lips gently with his own. Matt instinctively fell into the kiss, placing his hand on the back of Mello's neck and pushing him forward. Matt could feel his body unwillingly tense up, not exactly rejecting the affection, but making him shift uneasily in his seat. Mello noticed this subtle movement, and broke the kiss, looking at Matt with a slight concerned expression. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"Wha- no, of course not." Matt smiled. "I just, uh, think it's time we get the water now."

"Hm...but perhaps..." the blond mused, "...tea would be a much more befitting drink?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

Matt reached over and took Mello's hand, lacing their fingers together and giving a sigh. "Tea sounds lovely," he said, the British accent embedded into his voice again.

"Yay! The tea must go on!" Mello jumped up from the couch and pulled Matt to his feet. "What a splendid time we shall have!"

Instead of tea, they used wine they found in the weinkeller.

"Are you sure it's okay for us to drink this? Won't your uncle notice if one is missing?" It was Mello's turn to worry as Matt proceeded to open a bottle down in the kitchen.

"He has so many that he wouldn't notice if a couple disappear," Matt assured him, suddenly in the spirit of things. "Besides, once it's empty we can just fill it with water and put it back."

"Won't he notice when he drinks it?"

Matt shrugged. "He'll just assume it's gone bad." He popped the cork off of the wine bottle and took a long drink before offering it to the blond.

"But wine doesn't go bad..." Mello said quietly.

The redhead ignored him, and shoved the bottle in his hand. Mello was slightly hesitant, but then put the opening of the bottle to his lips and took a swig, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste, before handing it back to Matt. The two boys continued their game in the living room, and took turns sipping the wine, occasionally bringing out food to accompany it. Mello remained wearing the sun-dress the entire time, -'for fun', he said.

So caught up in their act, the two boys weren't aware of how much time passed, and before long the wine bottle was empty, and the both of them very, very drunk.

"You know, Mello -" the redhead began, nearly knocking over a lamp as he walked over to the couch. "That dress really looks good on you." He gave a sort of high-pitched giggle. "You kinda look like a girl!"

"Sh-shut up!" Mello said, stifling his own laughter at the same time. "Y-you're just jealous because I'm prettier than you!"

"Whatever." Matt gave the blond a playful shove, then ended up stumbling and falling on top of him, knocking the both of them to the floor.

"Oh, hey, r-remember that time at camp when you fell on me in the cave?" Mello laughed, making no effort to shift Matt's body weight off of him. "And then, and then we..." He stopped, and his laugh began to fade along with his smile. He stared up at Matt with a distant vacant expression. Then, without warning, he pulled Matt down and pressed their lips roughly together.

Matt -too drunk and surprised to respond- simply returned the kiss, and soon they were repeating the scene from the other night. The redhead could feel himself growing hot, but he didn't care. The alcohol in his system controlled him, giving him the freedom to give in to what his body truly desired. He could feel Mello's hands on his belt, his fingers trembling as he began to undo it. Did this mean he wanted it too? Matt's breathing quickened and his movements became more hurried. In mere seconds, the dress was bundled up around Mello's waist, and Matt was proceeding with slipping off his own jeans.

Things would have progressed further, but the soft crunching of gravel in the driveway alerted him and he immediately stopped, looking down at the blond as though just realizing what he was doing. The other boy's blue eyes were wide, innocent...

Without a second thought, Matt jumped off of Mello and scrambled over to the window. To his horror, he saw his uncle's car parked in the driveway and the sound of a key turning in the lock reached Matt's ears not long after. He looked back at the empty chip bags and chocolate wrappers, and the incriminating wine bottle setting conspicuously on the table. If his uncle saw this, he would be dead. Matt frantically tried to clean up, but his uncle walked into the room before he had time. Mello -realizing what had happened- had sat up and was suddenly quiet, save the occasional drunken giggle.

Marc stood frozen in the doorway, his eyes traveling from Matt -who was in the process of picking up the empty chip bags- to the wine bottle, and then to Mello, his eyebrows raising as he saw what he was wearing. "What is going on?" he asked, his voice tight and controlled as he went and snatched up the wine bottle.

"We were just playing around..." Matt mumbled, his face burning red.

His uncle gave a dry sort of bark. "Yes, it certainly looks like it," he scoffed. He then turned to Mello. "Might I ask what the hell you're doing in my sister's dress?"

The blond immediately scrambled to his feet, his face pink -more from the alcohol than embarrassment or shame. "I-I was just... I didn't know... I..." he stammered.

"Change. Now." Marc's eyes were narrowed, his fist clenched tightly around the bottle in his left hand.

"Y-yes sir." Mello nodded and immediately stumbled off to the bathroom, where he'd probably have a good round of vomiting due before he changed clothes.

Matt attempted to follow him, but his uncle immediately stopped him at the doorway. "You aren't going anywhere." He crossed his arms as Matt shrank back and gave him a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry. We shouldn't have taken the wine," he said, his head lowered.

"It's not just the wine. What were you two doing in that attic?" Marc's voice was on edge, Matt could tell, however much he attempted to hide it.

"We were just looking around. It was -" he started to say 'Mello's idea', but stopped himself. "We were just having a little fun. You never told us we couldn't go up there."

His uncle's eyes closed and he took a long, deep breath, and Matt reasoned that he must be realizing his nephew was right. "Maybe I should have been more specific with rules." He opened his eyes again and looked around the disarrayed room. "What did you two look at up there?" he asked carefully.

"Um, nothing really. We just found some old clothes and...and some old photographs."

Another sigh came from his uncle. "I see. Please don't go up there again."

"Yes sir," he said.

"Clean up the room." Without another word, his uncle turned and went out into the hallway, the empty wine bottle still held tightly in his hand.

Matt stood dumbstruck in his spot for a minute, before the loud sounds of vomiting came from down the hall and he was snapped out of his reverie.

XxX

When Matt tried the door to the hallway bathroom, he discovered it was locked. The blond's vomiting could still be heard, and Matt knocked on the door. "Mello, are you okay?"

A small silence as the puking ceased, and then a flushing sound. The door opened a moment later, and a very pale Mello appeared. He was wiping his mouth, and trying to untangle his tousled hair with his other hand.

"Are you...okay?" Matt asked again.

Mello nodded, moving forward and leaning his head on the redhead's shoulder, his arms wrapped around his waist. Matt returned the embrace, and slowly rubbed the other boy's back. "I don't feel very good," he muttered into Matt's shirt.

"That generally happens when you have too much to drink," Matt informed him gently. "Come on, let's go upstairs where you can change." The redhead turned, and attempted to pull Mello with him, but the blond didn't move when his arm was tugged. Curiously, Matt looked back at the other boy, who now had a slightly worried expression on his face. "What is it?" he asked.

"Your uncle isn't terribly angry, is he?" Mello said softly.

"Wha-? No, no," Matt assured him. "He'll forget all about it by tomorrow morning, I'm sure. It's no big deal, don't worry about it."

"You mean you didn't get in trouble for what we did?"

"Not really," the redhead replied. "He just told me not to go in the attic again."

Mello was silent for a minute, looking down at the floor. Then, finally, he said, "If I ever did something like that, my parents would all but kill me."

The way he said it, and the tone of his voice...not only did Matt take him seriously, but with the look on his face the redhead guessed that it had happened before.

XxX

Upstairs, Matt helped Mello to change out of the dress and get rid of the puke smell lingering around him, and where shortly afterwards the blond promptly collapsed on the bed. Matt put the clothes back in the attic, and when he returned to the bedroom, Mello had fallen asleep, so he went downstairs to clean up the rest of the mess. However, when he arrived downstairs, he discovered the trash had already been picked up. He figured his uncle must have done it.

Looking around, he found his uncle sitting at the kitchen table. He seemed to be looking through case folders, something he usually did back in his study upstairs.

Cautiously, Matt approached the doorway, ready to knock. However he decided against it at the last moment, and turned to walk away.

"Matt."

His uncle's voice startled him, and Matt turned to find Marc looking his way.

"Yeah?"

"Come in here," he said softly.

Curious, Matt stepped into the kitchen, where his uncle motioned for him to sit down across from him. When Matt took a seat, Marc sighed. "How's your friend?" he asked.

"Asleep. He doesn't feel well," Matt replied.

"I imagine so," Marc commented.

"I'm sorry. We won't do anything like that again."

"I know," Marc sighed. "You're a good kid, Matt. I'm not angry with either of you."

"You...aren't?" Matt was slightly surprised.

"I was your age once. I did stupid stuff with friends, just wanting to have fun. I know what you think when you're that age."

"Not everything," Matt muttered.

"I can relate to more than you think," his uncle answered him knowingly. "And you can come to me with anything."

"Yeah, yeah." Matt started picking at his nails, since there was an absence of fruit to twirl on the table. He always seemed to fidget when in an uncomfortable situation or conversation. He got it from his uncle.

"It just seems like there's something you aren't telling me. I worry about you, especially when I feel like something is wrong."

"Nothing is wrong," Matt said quietly.

"Alright, if you say so. I didn't really want anything..." he glanced at the diary resting beside his hands. "You should go up and check on your friend."

"Right." Matt nodded, standing up from the table. "I'm sorry, again."

Marc simply gave a nonchalant wave of his hand to show the matter was closed.

XxX

Upstairs in the bedroom, Mello was still sound asleep, his blond hair falling in his face and an arm draped limply across his stomach. Matt went over and sat beside the sleeping form, gently brushing the blond strands from the other boy's face. As he did so, a trickle of Mello's warm breath hit his hand, and he shivered. Suddenly, Matt began to think back to what had almost happened between them before his uncle had walked in. He'd almost done it, almost gone all the way. If only his uncle hadn't come home...

No! It was a good thing that his uncle had come. If they _had_ gone all the way, the both of them would have probably regretted it, Matt especially. Not that he didn't want it, but... It just wasn't the right time, or setting, or anything. Matt wasn't really -or at least didn't like to think of himself as- the "romantic" type, but he couldn't help but envision his first time as perfect, planned out and flawless, like something from a movie. Not a half-minded quick fuck in front of the couch as a result of too much liquor.

Giving a heavy sigh, Matt brought his thoughts back to the present. However, as he saw the sleeping boy once again, his mind began to flood with the images of Mello's warm, thin body close to his – the other boy panting and moaning beneath him.

Silently cursing himself, Matt stood up from the bed and started pacing the room. Why couldn't he just keep his mind on other things? Ever since Mello had shown up, sex was all he thought about. It was unnerving! He had never met someone so physically appealing... Despite his best efforts, Matt turned to take another long, careful look at the blond. Mello's skin was perfect, smooth, and soft; Matt couldn't help but give the other boy's arm a small, slow stroke, as if to make sure he was real. He shivered slightly, and then concentrated on Mello's figure. He was tall, thin, yet still retained most of his cute childlike features. Through the loose black T-shirt the blond was wearing, Mello's body was painfully obvious and noticeable. His eyes were currently closed, but Matt recalled the shimmering blue oceans beneath his eyelids; the eyes that Matt could never lie to, the eyes that always transfixed him. How could someone look so innocent? He knew that the blond was far from pure and untouched, but he could hardly think of him as anything else.

Slowly, Matt reached out and touched his face; the other boy's eyelids twitched slightly, but he didn't wake up. Why did he have the sudden impulse to touch him? Matt had every opportunity to, yet...why did he only feel brave enough to do so when the other boy wasn't aware of it? Carefully, Matt stroked the soft, tender skin of Mello's cheek, his hand sliding down to his neck and lingering there for a moment. He could feel the steady pulse of the blond's heart: a slow, steady, rhythmic pattern. Not even knowing why he was doing it, Matt laid down beside Mello and wrapped an arm across his waist, moving as close to the blond as he could and resting his head on the other boy's chest. It rose and fell every few seconds, and Matt simply closed his eyes and listened to his heartbeat and the steady sound of his warm breathing. He didn't think he'd ever felt so at peace before now; for some reason the blond gave him this odd sense of calmness and certainty. He had never had that with Alex. Alex had been there. He had loved Alex. But he had never felt this peaceful and relaxed with him. He had never felt this peaceful and relaxed with anyone.

A while later, Matt could feel himself drifting off to sleep. He knew his uncle would be upstairs in a few minutes, to go to his room and work on cases. When Marc did come upstairs, he would see his nephew curled up on the bed with his arm around another boy. It would be a great deal of explaining if he did see it. However, this peaceful feeling did not want to leave him, and Matt continued laying beside Mello, savouring the warmth and comfort his body brought. It was too good to leave, too wonderful and pleasant to pass up. Yet the thought, the image of his uncle walking upstairs and seeing them together like this, continued tugging relentlessly at Matt's conscience, and he heaved a reluctant sigh, before getting up and going over to the window seat.

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 2-<p> 


	3. Little Box of Treasures

Kapitel 03  
><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Kleine Schachtel der Kostbarkeiten  
>"<strong>Little Box of Treasures"<br>**_La petite boîte de trésors_

* * *

><p><em>Une petite boîte de trésors<br>__...qui garde les secrets les plus précieux de mon __cœur.__..._

* * *

><p><em>There was a slight oddity about the air that night, as Matt stood staring out the window into the night. The crescent moon stared morosely down at him, fading in and out of the clouds that had started to form in the sky.<em>

_ All of a sudden, he felt warm, thin fingers wrap around his wrist and pull him around. He found himself face to face with the blond, who was smiling in the familiar childlike way that Matt adored. "Bonsoir," he said softly, moving closer and pressing his warm lips gently to the redhead's cheek._

_ Bonsoir? Since when did Mello speak French?_

_ "Je te veux, d'accord ? Viens." he gave a small tug to Matt's wrist, pulling him towards the bed._

_ For some reason, Matt found himself saying, "Seulement si tu dis s'il te plaît."_

_ The sweet smile on Mello's face grew wider. He leaned forward, his lips brushing briefly against Matt's ear as he whispered, "S'il te plaît."_

_ Dazedly, Matt was aware he was being led to the bed, yet he did nothing, said nothing. Submitting to the other boy's hands, Matt allowed himself to be pushed gently back on the bed, as Mello's mouth connected with his and their tongues began to battle for dominance. Matt moaned slightly as the other boy's hand suddenly invaded his pants, softly stroking the sensitive areas around his legs. He closed his eyes, his hips arching upward when Mello gave his member a long, slow pull._

_"Est-ce que tu aimes __ça__ ?" __Mello asked with a small chuckle._

_ "O-oui..." Matt gasped, gripping the blond's shoulders tightly. "E-encore..."_

_ "Hm?"_

_ "Encore!" Matt pleaded, leaning his head back. "S'il te plaît, encore..."_

_ Obeying Matt's request, Mello wrapped his fingers around the redhead's hardening member and began to pump slowly, earning a series of spastic moans from the boy beneath him._

_ Wait...where was Marc...? Where was his uncle...? Couldn't he hear them, as loud as Matt was being? Oh, fuck it. Matt didn't really care at this point._

_ As the pleasure began to seep through him, Matt shifted Mello's weight off of him and rolled over to where he was on top, straddling the blond with his legs. Their mouths locked again and Matt subconsciously began rubbing against the other boy. First slowly, and then faster. He could hear the slight whimpers and gasps that Mello made in response to his movements._

_ Unable to wait any longer, Matt yanked off the blond's jeans and proceeded with undoing his belt and shucking off his own -now tight- pants. Immediately afterward, he positioned himself at Mello's entrance. Already he could feel the warm heat seeping from the other boy. "Maintenant?" he whispered anxiously._

_ "O-oui..."_

_ Taking no time to stretch him or apply lubricant, Matt thrust forward and sheathed himself in one fell thrust. His member throbbed painfully as it reacted to the tightness and heat, and Matt began to move farther in, creating a slow, rhythmic motion that grew faster as he continued. At one point, he simply pushed all other thoughts aside and shoved forward, the tip of his member brushing the other boy's prostate._

_ The blond opened his mouth in a silent cry, panting heavily as Matt repeated the same motion. All too soon, Matt could feel the pressure building inside him, threatening to spill out at any moment. His movements became rougher, faster, each one making his gasp louder than the last. He was almost there, almost..._

XxX

Matt sat bolt upright in bed, panting like crazy. Beads of cold sweat ran down the back of his neck and on his forehead, and his heart was hammering erratically against his rib cage. It took him a while to collect his thoughts, but when he did he realized that it was early morning, judging by the rays of very dim sunlight streaming through the window. Soft breathing beside him alerted Matt that Mello was still sound asleep, so there was no worry that he had woken the other boy. Bits and pieces of his dream still floated around in his mind, and he shook his head, trying to wipe them away.

It was then that he noticed he was sitting in something sticky. Fear of what it was clutched at his insides, and he quickly reached down to identify it. Bringing his hand close to his face, he studied it carefully, until he could make sense of what the unknown substance was. When he realized what it was, a wave of horror and shame seized him and he could feel a blush crawl up his face. Recalling his dream, it was only expected that something like this would happen, yet it still didn't make the situation any better. Since when had he even had one of _those _dreams, anyhow? It had been a long time. Silently cursing himself, Matt crawled out of bed -extremely careful not to wake the blond beside him- and stumbled over to the dresser to change into a clean pair of clothes, stuffing the others under his bed for sometime in the future.

Figuring he might as well get a drink of water or something while he was up, he opened the bedroom door and felt his way down the pitch black hallway, taking care not to fall down the stairs. He really didn't feel like explaining to his uncle what he was doing up at -he glanced at a nearby clock- five in the morning.

He poured himself a glass of water in the kitchen, and drank it all in a few gulps. Heaving a long, exhausted sigh, Matt braced his palms against the kitchen counter and lowered his head. _It's like I'm not even control of my own body,_ he thought angrily. _I can't even be close to Mello without having those sorts of thoughts, but then something like this happens…. _He honestly didn't know what was wrong with him.

Matt was so absorbed in his thoughts, that a voice in the kitchen doorway nearly caused him to knock over the water glass as he jumped a foot in the air.

"Sorry!" Mello whispered apologetically. "I didn't mean to scare you…"

Giving another sigh, Matt shook his head. "It's fine. What do you want?"

"Uh, well…you weren't in the room when I woke up, so I thought I'd see if you were down here…." he said slowly. Then his brow furrowed. "Are you alright? You seem flushed…"

As he reached out a hand to feel Matt's forehead, the redhead quickly shrugged away. "I'm fine. I was just thirsty." he brushed past the blond and started up the staircase, only to be stopped when Mello reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Matt, why are you acting so strange?" he said, his voice sounding a little hurt.

"I'm not acting strange," Matt replied. "I told you - I was just thirsty."

"Well if you say so…" Mello reluctantly let go of his wrist, and Matt continued up the stairs, the blond following slowly at his heels.

When the two boys crawled back under the warm bed covers, Matt could tell Mello was trying to sleep close to him without letting him know. Matt pretended not to notice as the blond's arm snaked carefully around his waist, and his body pressed close against Matt's. He was holding his breath, Matt could tell, as though waiting for Matt to shrug him off. After a few minutes, when Matt didn't object, Mello relaxed against him and moved a little closer.

Truthfully, Matt welcomed the warmth. It was more comforting than lying awake thinking to himself all night. Almost subconsciously, his hand found Mello's, and the redhead softly began stroking it with his fingertips. He heard a soft sigh in response, Mello's face buried deep into his shirt. Matt's eyelids were suddenly very heavy, and he gave a yawn. He had always hated waking up in the middle of the night or early morning; it made him feel like utter crap, and he usually had trouble going back to sleep. However, tonight had exhausted him more than anything, and he longed to just go to sleep and wake up refreshed in the later morning. Though he was slightly worried about having another dream like before. With Mello right up next to him, there was no telling what he'd end up thinking about subconsciously. He gave a mental sigh, as though to say 'to hell with it'. He really just didn't care anymore. It would be much harder to stay away from Mello than to deal with what he thought about almost every time he _was_ close to him. Then again, he preferred to keep those thoughts _private_ from Mello...

As if the blond could read his strangled and confused mind, Mello reached up and brushed some hair away from Matt's face. "Something wrong?" he asked. Even in the dark, Matt could tell the other boy had a concerned expression on his face.

"No, I'm fine – really," Matt replied, wondering how completely and pathetically fake he sounded.

"Sure?" Mello asked. "You've been acting weird lately. If something's wrong, tell me."

There were very few times the blond was serious, and Matt sincerely wished that now wasn't one of those times. "Nothing's wrong, honestly. Don't worry about it."

"But..." Mello trailed off, his voice quiet as he spoke again. "Never mind." He sighed. "Gute Nacht."

"Gute Nacht," Matt repeated. In all honesty, he felt kind of bad for the cold attitude he'd been giving the blond, but he didn't really see many other options. Though, as he thought about it, he couldn't even see why he was being so aloof in the first place. Deep down, he knew sex wasn't the real issue. It was perfectly easy to shut off those thoughts, when he really tried. So why was he so reluctant to get close -not just physically, but emotionally as well? Was he still not over Alex? No, that couldn't be the reason. Alex had barely entered his mind since he'd met Mello; he hardly thought the other boy was responsible for his feelings now. He knew he definitely wasn't falling _out_ of love with Mello. The redhead couldn't ever see that happening. So what the hell was it? He had talked to Alex; he had shared personal thoughts with him. Why was it so hard for him to do that with Mello? There didn't seem to be a reason, but Matt still felt that something was holding him back. He wanted to talk to Mello like that, didn't he? He wanted to be close to him, and to confide in him. So why couldn't he? Had he just grown so cold and shut-off since Alex had broken up with him, that he was incapable of getting close to anyone again? Had Alex really done that much damage? Matt didn't think it could be possible that one stupid breakup would result in permanent isolation from all physical and emotional closeness to any human being.

He also felt guilty for a different reason. Matt knew that he was the sole and only person Mello ever received any affection from. He knew, he _knew_ how hard it must be for the other boy to be so alone. He almost felt he _owed_ it to the blond; it was obvious that it was what Mello craved more than anything, and Matt was the only person -other than Emil, who Mello obviously had no interest in- who he would get it from. It wasn't right of Matt to be so selfish, just because he had had a bad relationship experience, to take that out on Mello, who hadn't even done anything to him.

Shit. Now Matt was just making himself feel bad. He made a mental note to himself to be a little nicer, and more affectionate -God help him- if he could manage it. Physical things had always made him uncomfortable, even with Alex -which, in all honesty, Alex hadn't been that affectionate either-, and though Matt certainly liked receiving affection himself, he always felt weird being the one to give it. It just...wasn't him. Then again, when he'd been with Alex -and he hated to admit it- he'd been even more clingy than Mello. And still, it couldn't hurt to be a little less loveless. Haha. Alliteration. Gods, this was why he hated school; he somehow managed to relate it back to his life. Ah, and 'Loveless' just so happened to be an anime. A pedophilic Yaoi anime. Ah, coincidences.

It took him a few more minutes to realize he was dreaming.

Xxx

"Matt..." A sigh. "_Maaattt..._"

Reacting to the hands suddenly shaking him, Matt opened his eyes a little and swiped blindly in the air, almost hitting the blond that was bending over him, attempting to force him out of his lovely dream and into the bland real world. "Quoiiii?" he muttered sleepily, rolling over and burying his face into the nice fluffy pillow that was conveniently placed underneath his head.

"You were muttering in you sleep. Get up..." Mello shook him again, and Matt kicked outward with one leg, nearly knocking the blond off the bed this time.

"J'veux pas..." He groaned.

An irritated sigh came from above him, which was obviously the blond rolling his eyes. A moment later, all of the warm fluffiness around him suddenly vanished, and he was shivering in the rush of cold that suddenly enveloped him. "Mmmm..." He kept his face buried deep in the pillow, irritated that someone dared to disturb his sleep. He'd been having the most wonderful dream... And now he couldn't remember it. Dammit.

"Fine. Sleep!" Mello sighed in defeat and jumped off the bed. "At least you stopped the God-awful muttering. 'Oui, si too play, je swee, escargot...'"

Matt felt his heart skip a beat at first, and he had sat halfway up in bed before realising the blond was just spouting off random French words, and had no idea what he'd actually been saying.

Mello reached over and attempted to flatten the mess of hair on the other boy's head. "You look funny," he giggled.

Matt attempted a smile. "That's because someone woke me up when I was very happy asleep," he said, poking the blond in the forehead.

"Well I woke up early, and I got bored so I wanted someone to talk to," he said, sticking out his lower lip slightly. "And I'm hungry, and I needed someone to fix me breakfast."

"What are you talking about? I'm a terrible cook," Matt replied. "And I wouldn't want to poison you."

"I'm prepared to take the risk," the blond said, tugging on Matt's hand. "Come on! Downstairs. Food. Now."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Matt said, as he was roughly pulled out of bed and out in the hallway.

Xxx

"You aren't a bad cook at all," Mello commented, another piece of bacon halfway to his mouth. "This is delicious. Then again, any food is delicious" -he was now talking with a full mouth- "But in all honesty, you aren't nearly as bad a cook as you made yourself out to -" he stopped in mid-sentence as Matt smiled and put a finger to his lips.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth," he said.

"Who are you, my mother?" Mello replied, bits of food falling on the table.

Something else Matt noticed about Mello that he hadn't before, was that the blond seemed much more cheerful than he had at camp. Maybe it was the fact that he wasn't home, with his parents, and the prospect of going home was long away. Matt rested his chin in his hand and stared off into space. Did he really make the boy that happy? It hardly seemed likely that he -of all people- could make _anyone_ happy. Did this thought make him happy? Sort of.

Before long, Mello was waving a hand in front of his face. "What are you thinking about?" he asked curiously. "You sure space out a lot."

"Nothing important," Matt replied, attempting an at least halfway honest smile.

"Hey- why don't we explore the house some more today?" the blond suggested.

"Ha, remember what happened last time?" Matt reminded him.

"So we won't go in the attic," Mello said with a shrug. "I'm sure there's plenty of other things we could find."

"I honestly don't view this house as having anything interesting _to_ find."

"Come on, there's bound to be something," Mello argued. "This house has tons of rooms."

"It's really not _that _big," Matt said, but gave a defeated sigh. "Alright, fine. But you leave any women's clothing we find alone, understand?"

Mello blushed slightly as a playful smile began to curl at the edge of his lips. "Got it."

Xxx

"Jesus, this room is dusty," Mello commented, as they walked into one of the bedrooms. For the most part, it looked like all the other bedrooms: one double bed, a bedside table, dresser, and closet. The two boys walked inside, and Mello immediately ran and started digging through the closet for artifacts. There had been a few interesting things they had found so far, of which included old antiques, pictures, and old clothes. "Hey, how come there's so much stuff in these rooms, anyway?" Mello asked. "I mean, your uncle doesn't use them."

"My uncle just likes to collect things, I guess," Matt replied.

The blond was silent for a few minutes, digging carefully through every corner in the closet. All of a sudden, Matt heard a gasp and squeal. "Oh my God, come look!"

Wondering what could have possibly made a boy _squeal_, Matt walked into the closet. "What is it?"

"Look!" Mello cried, holding up what looked like a big lump of fancy cloth.

"What...is it?"

"A kimono! An actual kimono!" The blond laughed. "Oh come on, Matt, you have to let me try it on! It'll be fun!"

The redhead studied the lump of cloth carefully. As he looked closer, it appeared more like an outfit and less like a jumbled mess of sheets. The kimono had a red and blue pattern, with little fan imprints embroidered about the skirt, the sash a light gold color. It looked fairly expensive; he didn't have a clue why his uncle would have one lying around. Nonetheless, Mello's blue eyes were lit up with excitement, and Matt knew he couldn't refuse. "Fine," he sighed. "Just hurry up."

"Yay!" Mello spread out the kimono and slipped his arms into the oversized sleeves. "Hey, come help me tie the sash-thingy," he ordered Matt, waving him over, his hand hidden in the too-long red and blue sleeve.

Matt picked up the sash and looked at it for a moment, wondering how Mello expected him -of all people- to know how to tie a kimono sash. All the same, he decided one pathetic attempt couldn't hurt, and slowly wrapped the cloth around Mello waist, securing the kimono folds in place with a clumsy knot in the back. At least he knew enough not to tie it in the front. That would have been funny, but -in all honesty- kind of cruel.

When the kimono was securely wrapped around him, Mello went over and studied himself in a nearby mirror. "How does it look?" he asked Matt.

At this point, Matt was honestly beginning to think Mello should have been born as a girl. "It looks fine," he said, surprising himself by smiling. It was true that Mello looked beautiful, even in feminine clothes. The boy always looked beautiful, and Matt couldn't deny it. As if on impulse, Matt went to the mirror and pulled Mello around to face him, bringing their lips together in a sudden kiss. He heard a surprised little gasp escape Mello's throat, but then Matt felt a hand reach around and grip the back of his neck. Before he knew it, he had Mello between himself and the wall, his tongue all but jammed down the other boy's throat. The blond's hands were gripping the back of his neck in a tight hold, his legs wrapped around Matt's waist.

Matt was surprised that his movements came almost instinctively. He didn't even register where his hands went, or when they went there. There was no control -or rather, he had no control- over his own body when it came to things like this. The blond gave a slight moan as the redhead's tongue explored his mouth, his fingers tangling themselves tightly in Matt's hair. The other boy gave a little yelp as he felt Mello tugging at his hair, but it didn't distract him from his current activity. It gave him an odd mental satisfaction to hear Mello's reactions - to have him react to it at all. Deciding to see just how far he could drive the boy, Matt moved his mouth down to the slightly exposed skin of the blond's shoulder, his tongue making a warm path down Mello's neck. He could feel Mello flinch beneath him, as the blond closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Pleased with this reaction, Matt slipped the kimono down farther and began to move his hand down along Mello's chest, making the boy shiver. It took practically all of Matt's willpower to restrain himself from going further down.

"M-Matt…"

Hearing the other boy gasp his name made Matt's heart skip a few painful beats, and he automatically looked up into Mello's face. The blond's blue eyes were wide, the pupils slightly dilated as he stared at Matt with an almost pleading look. But, pleading for what?

"M-Mello -" Dammit, his own voice was shaking. "S-sorry. I uh, I'll stop if-"

"No!" Mello's hands clenched around his shoulders. "I-I didn't want you to stop," he said, his face flushing. "It's just, I…. You never did that before, like that…" He looked away towards the mirror, almost embarrassed.

"W-well, if it makes you uncomfortable -"

"No, it didn't! I mean, that…that's not it. I-I liked it."

"You…did?"

Mello nodded, almost sheepishly. "It just…surprised me, that's all."

"Oh, okay. Um…." Matt hesitated, but then slowly brought their lips together again, his movements slightly slower as he savored the moment. Mello's arms wrapped tightly around his neck, pulling him closer, pressing their lips tighter. Thankfully, Matt had a bit more control now, and he made sure to stop himself from doing anything he'd regret. He felt Mello's hands move down his back, searching for the end of his shirt. The blond quickly gripped the hem and pulled it over Matt's head, tossing it carelessly on the floor as his hands felt the bare skin beneath his fingertips.

Matt's heart was absolutely pounding against his chest, his blood pumping faster every second. He was incapable of describing how it felt to have Mello's thin, perfect body pressed against his, the other boy wrapped tightly in his arms, the smell of his golden blonde hair filling the air around Matt with an almost euphoric scent. Matt almost felt as if he wasn't good enough to be this close to Mello, who seemed so painfully flawless in every aspect. Now, Matt knew this to be far from the truth, however, this knowledge still didn't change the image he had of Mello in his mind. That probably would never change, he reasoned. As long as the blond possessed such strikingly beautiful and perfect features, Matt didn't ponder that he could ever think of him in any other way. It didn't seem plausible.

So enraptured in his thoughts, and the cloud of contentment and bliss now flooding his body, Matt didn't notice the occasional winces the blond made whenever Matt's hand brushed across a certain place on his side or back. Maybe it was the extreme amount of effort the blond used in trying to conceal these small spasms of pain, or maybe Matt just wasn't paying any attention to the boy's reactions now. Matt's hands wound around Mello's waist, untying the sash's knot quite skillfully for someone who had had so much trouble tying it in the first place. Perhaps he just hadn't tied it very tight. The silky golden material slipped to the floor with a light swishing sound, followed by the rest of the kimono. The blond was still wearing clothes underneath, and Matt took no hesitation in slipping his hands under Mello's shirt and beginning to pull it over the other boy's head.

Whether it was because Mello didn't have time to stop him, didn't realize what Matt was doing, or just didn't care, he made no effort to stop Matt from revealing the skin beneath his shirt. It wasn't until after the black material was on the floor, and Matt was capable of seeing it, did Mello try to stop him. "W-wait!" Acting upon the first thought that came in his mind, he broke apart from Matt with surprising quickness, and landed on the floor with a thud.

"The hell -" Matt stumbled backward in surprise, landing on the floor shortly after Mello. "What was that about?" he demanded angrily.

"Um, nothing!" Mello's eyes frantically scanned the floor, and Matt realized he was looking for his shirt. At the same time, he had his arms wrapped tightly around his chest, as though trying to cover something up.

"Hey, what are hiding?" Matt asked, raising an eyebrow and reaching over to pry the other boy's arms away from his body.

"N-nothing, don't-!" Mello began, trying to jerk away.

His attempts were in vain. Matt easily pulled away his thin arms to reveal what was underneath, a small gasp escaping his lips when he discovered what Mello had been trying to hide.

An array of painful-looking bruises were scattered along Mello's chest, accompanied by various cuts and scratches that blended in with the dark spots.

Matt's eyes widened and his grip on Mello's wrists subconsciously slackened, as he surveyed the damage that had been done to the boy. _Someone _had done this to him. Someone had actually _dared _to hurt him like this. Matt suddenly felt an angry surge pulse through his veins at the sight. He wanted to _kill _them. Whoever had done this, he wanted to _murder _them. And why…why had Matt never noticed these marks and bruises before? Why hadn't he realized they were there? They would've been painfully conspicuous to anyone who had seen Mello without a shirt.

Then, as though realizing something, Matt thought back to his first night at camp. He remembered it clearly, because that had been the first day he'd seen Mello. Also, it had been the first day he'd seen Mello without a shirt. In fact, that had been one of the first things that had grabbed his attention: Mello without a shirt. But Mello hadn't had those bruises then; Matt -and Emil- would have seen them if he had. He and Mello had even gone swimming in their underwear -twice- and Matt had never seen bruises these vicious before.

Suddenly, the burn marks Mello had shown him the previous year seemed like nothing. Not compared to what Matt was seeing now. He didn't think anything had ever made him angrier.

Mello was staring down at the floor, shrinking under Matt's horrified gaze. His arms were wrapped around himself again, though there was no point to it. Matt had already seen everything.

"Mello…where did you get those bruises?" he asked steadily, even though he already knew the answer. He couldn't help but pray he was wrong, though Matt knew by now that praying pretty much got you nothing in life.

"I…"

"Don't lie to me," Matt demanded, his voice slightly angry. He fought to control his temper, but found it getting the better of him when Mello wouldn't disclose the culprit.

"Don't you already know?" Mello asked, and Matt was surprised by the bitter tone in his voice. _What, no cheerful, 'Oh, you know the answer to that'?_

"Maybe," Matt replied. "I'd rather not guess."

The blond held up one of his arms, showing Matt the burn marks he already knew were there. Matt took this to be Mello's way of answering him, of telling him that the same person who had scarred his arms had caused those bruises as well. Which meant that Matt's assumptions had been correct.

"Mello…" Matt's voice caught in the back of his throat. Mello simply sat quietly against the wall with his legs double-crossed, gazing down into his lap, where he was picking invisible dirt from underneath his fingernails. "When did she do this?" he asked, his voice strained as he fought to control emotions Matt never knew he possessed.

Mello shrugged, keeping his gaze fixed down: like a kid who knew he was in trouble and about to be punished. "A while ago."

"Look, I know you didn't have those bruises at camp. It was sometime during the school year, wasn't it?"

"I guess," Mello replied quietly. "Can we talk about something else?" he asked, his voice pleading.

"No, we can't talk about something else. I want you to answer me!"

"I did answer you," the blond responded softly. "It was a while ago. I don't exactly make a diary of every time my mother hits me. You can imagine I'd have quite a full book if I did."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" Matt demanded.

"Obviously, because of the way you're reacting now. I didn't see a reason to tell you. It wasn't important," Mello answered listlessly.

"It _is _important!" Matt retorted. "What she's doing to you isn't right! You have to -"

"Have to what?" Mello snapped, glaring up at Matt with a surprising anger burning in his blue eyes. "Turn her in? Be sent to some shitty foster home where I'll probably get beaten up the same? No thank you." He stood up and grabbed his shirt from the floor, yanking it back over his head and striding out of the room.

Matt stayed where he was, staring after Mello in complete shock. He'd never heard the boy talk like that before: so angry and bitter. It was as if a completely different person had been speaking; as if it wasn't even Mello. That look in his eyes had been of pure anger, something Matt had never seen in Mello before. It slightly frightened him. He stood up from the floor and picked up his own discarded shirt from the floor, heading out of the room after Mello. When he arrived in the hallway, the blond was nowhere in sight, and Matt feared he'd never find him in this big of a house.

Giving a heavy sigh, he retraced his steps to the living room and plopped down on the couch. He'd just wait for Mello to show up, he supposed. There didn't seem to really be many other options, unless he wanted to spend hours searching this maze of a house. He stretched out on the couch and yawned, suddenly tired. It couldn't hurt to nap for a few minutes, could it? With this in mind, he closed his eyes and buried his face in a soft pillow he found nearby.

Not exactly sure how long he'd been asleep, Matt was only suddenly aware of a weight on the other end of the couch. Deciding that this was what had woken him, Matt opened his eyes and removed the pillow from his face, gazing over at the opposite end of the sofa.

Mello was sitting there, his knees hugged tightly to his chest and his gaze fixed vacantly across the room. It wasn't clear how long he'd been sitting here, though Matt reasoned it must have been a while. "Mello?" he said, in hopes of getting the blond's attention.

"Oh, you're awake." A smile immediately lit up his face. "I was beginning to get bored."

Matt sat up, confused by Mello's sudden change of attitude. Now he wondered if the boy was bipolar. "Sorry," he mumbled, trying to remember everything that had happened in the previous minutes before he'd fallen asleep. Maybe it had been a dream. This thought certainly would have cheered Matt greatly, if he believed it to be true. Somehow he knew that if he pulled up Mello's shirt right then, those bruises would still be there. "What time is it?" he looked around for a clock, but Mello answered him before he could find one.

"Two o'clock. You were asleep for a couple hours," he replied cheerfully. "I was going to wake you up, but I figured you could use the rest."

"Um, thanks I suppose." His eyes traveled down to Mello's chest, now covered by his shirt. He thought about asking him about it, but decided against it. Mello obviously wanted to avoid that conversation, which was most likely the reason for his suddenly cheerful attitude that Matt knew to be completely fake. Was his cheerfulness always fake? Just an act to disguise his true feelings? How was Matt to know or tell which feelings were real and when?

"Something wrong?" Mello asked, his brow creasing.

How could he even ask that? Of _course_ something was wrong! Matt put his slight irritation aside and shook his head. "No, I guess I'm still sleepy." He feigned a small smile.

Then he noticed something sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch. A tray laden with food and a glass of tea rested on the table, smelling warm and appealing to Matt's now-growling stomach.

"I…figured you might be hungry," Mello said, giving a slightly apologetic smile. Was this his way of making up for his sharp attitude earlier?

"Thanks," Matt said, his eyebrows raising in slight surprise. He was suddenly hungry, and welcomed the treat.

When he finished eating, Matt set the empty glass back on the table and wiped his mouth. Mello was sitting next to him, watching him carefully as though waiting to say something. His mouth remained closed, however, even minutes after Matt had finished and was sitting lounged back against the couch. Then, he suddenly wrapped his arms around Matt's neck and buried his face in the other boy's shoulder.

Slightly -or rather, greatly- surprised by this abrupt gesture, Matt returned the embrace and held Mello close against him. This _had _to be the blond's way of apologizing. Otherwise he never would've fixed Matt lunch.

"I'm sorry for being so mean earlier," he said, pulling back and looking at Matt with tear-filled blue eyes.

Wondering why he suddenly felt a wave of relief sweep over him, Matt smiled and tucked a strand of the other boy's soft blond hair behind his ear. "It's alright. I'm not angry."

"You were only worried. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that," Mello apologized. "You had every right to be angry about it. I'm sorry." He sniffled slightly.

"It's fine. If you don't want to tell me about what goes on, you don't have to. I shouldn't have gotten so angry." Matt pulled Mello close and kissed the other boy's forehead.

"I guess I just don't like thinking about it," the blond said, resting his head against Matt's chest as the redhead enveloped him in his arms.

"I don't blame you," Matt said. "I won't ask about it again if you don't want to talk about it."

"Thanks. I…I appreciate that."

Xxx

Matt's uncle came home around four, and went directly to his study, which suggested he'd brought home a lot of work. This type of thing wasn't unusual, though it did make Matt curious. The cases his uncle got as a social worker were usually fairly small. Mostly abused kids or druggies.

Deciding to see what the case was this time, Matt went and knocked on the door to his uncle's study, while Mello was taking a short nap.

"Come in."

Hearing his uncle's voice, Matt opened the door and slowly stepped inside to discover Marc sitting behind a desk covered with papers and case folders. "Hey." He closed the door softly behind him and strode over to the desk, plopping down into one of the soft, cushy chairs his uncle had set in front of his desk. "What's the case this time?"

"Drugs." Marc sighed. "This kid has been living on the streets for some time now, and they shoved his case file on my desk suddenly this morning. I'm supposed to help him get clean and find a family to take him in."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Matt commented.

Marc gave a small laugh. "You could say so. But someone has to do it."

"I guess so."

Marc looked at him and smiled. "Don't worry yourself with my work." He picked up a folder and began to go through it. "Where's Mello?"

"Asleep," Matt replied, picking at some of the loose padding on the chair.

"Je vois... So you came to see me because you were bored, is that it?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty much," Matt answered with a smile. He reached over to take one of the folders and look through it. A picture of a girl about his age stared up at him, her brown eyes blank and listless. She had straight brown hair that disappeared behind her shoulders, and by appearance seemed to be of Asian origin. "Who's this?" he asked curiously.

"Her name is Natsuko," Marc explained. "She was repeatedly sexually abused by her father -" he paused, and fixed Matt with a steady gaze. "You understand that I shouldn't really be telling you any of this, don't you?"

Matt nodded quickly. "It stays between us." He knew that his uncle was forbidden by confidentiality to discuss cases with others, but it was hard on Marc not to have anyone to talk to about it, so he often confided in Matt. The redhead always kept it to himself anyway; it wasn't like he had anyone _to_ tell.

Apparently satisfied with this promise, Marc began sifting through papers again, more of fidgeting than anything, and Matt returned Natsuko's folder back to the desk. "So…what did they do to her dad for abusing her?" Matt asked.

"He's in jail for six years, and by the time he gets out she won't be a minor, so she won't have to worry about living with him or visitation rights."

"So where is she going to live until then?"

"With a foster family," Marc replied. "We already have one set up for her in a nearby city."

"But, aren't there any other options for kids besides foster homes?" Matt asked.

"I know it doesn't sound very pleasant," his uncle agreed somberly. "We try to find relatives for them to stay with." He sighed. "But sometimes they have no one, and other times the relatives they do have don't want to take on the responsibility." He shook his head. "That's why, when Cecilia and Kane died, I refused to let them send you to some foster home. I know the move was hard on you, and I'm sorry. But I did it for your own well-being."

"I know," Matt said, playing with the hem of his shirt. "Besides, it isn't so bad here…" He added, thinking of Mello.

His uncle smiled, as though reading his thoughts. "I'm glad to hear that. I would hate to think you were lonely."

Matt was silent, thinking carefully for a minute. The thought of Mello had inspired a question. "Hey…what do you do when you find out a kid is being abused? I mean, do you just go there and take them?"

"Well, no, not exactly. When we get a report, we go and observe the family, ask the kids questions, and determine whether the children are in danger."

"And if they are?"

"We take them to the center and go from there."

The 'center' was the office where Marc worked, and where the children that had yet to be placed in foster care stayed. It was sort of like an orphanage, so to speak, though both Matt and his uncle preferred to call it the 'center'. 'Orphanage' just sounded so…horrible.

Silence rested for a few minutes, as Matt looked around the room and flipped through various case files. "Marc?" He said suddenly.

"Hm?"

"What's the worst thing you've ever seen?" Matt asked at last, looking up at his uncle.

"Hm…" Marc thought for a minute, and then sighed. "Three years ago. There was a report we got of a ten-year-old boy being abused by his mother. I and a colleague of mine got the case, and headed to the house…." His voice trailed off, and then he reluctantly continued. "The mother was keeping him in the basement, tied to a chair. She hardly gave him any food. From what we could tell, it'd been that way most of his life. It was awful…" He shook his head.

"That _is_ awful," Matt said. At least Mello didn't have to go through something like that - as far as Matt knew and prayed, anyway.

His uncle gave a sad little smile, and then turned back to something he was writing. "Why the sudden interest in my job, anyhow? You never asked about it before."

"Just curious," Mat replied, shrugging and shifting uncomfortably.

Marc didn't look very convinced, but didn't press the question further. "So what did you two boys occupy your time with while I was gone today?" he asked, as an attempt to change the subject.

"Nothing much. Just explored the house a bit."

"Oh. Find anything interesting?"

"Not really," Matt replied, trying not to think of the kimono incident.

"You know, there's a spare car out back in the garage if you two wanted to get out of the house for a while."

"Um…I'm only fifteen. I don't have a license yet."

"Well, you have your permit, don't you?"

"The age for permits in Germany is 17, and even then, I need to have a _licensed driver_ in the car with me," Matt reminded him.

Marc waved his hand in the air. "You're a good driver. As long as you don't get pulled over you'll be fine."

"Let me get this straight…. You're actually suggesting that I -a teenage boy- get in a car -with another teenage boy- and drive to town. Without a license?" Matt asked, as though to make sure he had understood his uncle correctly.

"You say it like I'm an irresponsible guardian," Marc said, pretending to be hurt.

Matt smiled. "No, not at all."

"Alright, well run along. I have a lot of work to do with this case," Marc said.

"Right." Matt nodded and stood up.

"The keys are on the hook by the front door," his uncle said with a small smile.

"Got it." Matt returned the smile and headed towards the door, however he suddenly stopped as he reached for the doorknob. "Hey, Marc?" he asked, turning back around.

"Hm?" his uncle glanced up from his papers curiously.

"Have any of the kids you've taken in…had…nightmares?"

"Nightmares? Well, certainly. Some are worse than others, but generally when kids go through something like that, it reciprocates within their dreams," Marc explained. "Why?"

"I was just wondering," Matt replied quickly, turning back towards the door and opening it. "Don't work too hard," he called as he stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him before his uncle could reply.

Xxx

That evening, for something to occupy time, Mello began sifting around Matt's room, searching under the bed and in the closet.

"Nosy little kid, aren't you?" Matt commented.

"I'm just interested to see what deep dark secrets you have hidden in here," Mello replied cheerfully.

"You won't find anything," Matt told him.

"Tell me about it. Your room is boring." He dug farther back in the closet, as though hoping to find a genie lamp or something. To Matt's surprise, he actually discovered something that earned a cry of triumph. "Aha!" The blond pulled out a small silver box from the closet. It had a handle on the lid, and a clasp on the very front, with the appearance of keeping snoopers out, but obviously very easy to break into. "What's this?" Mello asked, studying it carefully.

"Oh – I forgot I had that," Matt commented, going over and taking the box from Mello.

"What's in it?" Mello asked excitedly. The tone of his voice suggested he thought the box held some sort of magnificent treasure.

"Stuff I brought over from France. Old notes and stuff." Matt opened the box and began to explore its contents, while Mello watched eagerly over his shoulder.

The first thing he retrieved was a folded up piece of paper, which opened to reveal a note in fancy, girly handwriting. The handwriting was something Mello had never seen before. The end of every word was decorated with a line that ran from the end of the last letter under the entire word, underlining it with one big circular loop. Every 'I' was dotted with a heart, along with all the exclamation points. Mello was sure that the question marks would have been that way too, had there been any in the note. If he hadn't seen the familiar name 'Alex' at the bottom of the page, he would have thought a girl had written it.

Intrigued even more by the sissy handwriting, Mello eagerly craned his neck to see as Matt read silently to himself.

_Salut, mon cher !_

_J'espère que tout va bien~_

_J'pensais, comme on n'va pas aller à la danse,_

_peut-être on peut faire les vitrines ou quelque chose !_

_Parce que j'sais comme t'aimes faire les magasins !_

_Ou bien, comme __moi j'aime__ l'faire~_

_-Alex_

The message was written in such fancy, looping, ridiculous handwriting that Mello wouldn't have been able to read it, even if it had been in English. "What's it say?" he demanded of Matt impatiently. "I can't read it!"

"Oh, it's just a note from when Alex and I first started dating." Matt blushed slightly.

"Well, what's it say?"

"Oh, nothing," Matt replied. He quickly put it back in the box and pulled out another note, suddenly absorbed in his own memories.

Matt selected bits and pieces of each note to read to Mello, simply to satisfy the boy's curiosity. Never in a million years would he read _everything_, and he was suddenly very thankful the blond couldn't speak or read French.

"How many damn notes did you two write to each other?" Mello asked, pulling out a handful of about ten different notes, all written in Alex's fancy, girlish handwriting.

"Um, I'm not sure," Matt answered, his face a bright pink.

"What's with this handwriting anyway? It just looks like a bunch of scribbles. Like this guy _invented _his own handwriting. Is that it? Did he _invent _his own handwriting? Because, really, who has this handwriting? It isn't even readable!"

"Be quiet," Matt said irritably, snatching one of the notes from Mello's hand.

"What else is in here…?" Mello wondered aloud, searching deeper into the silver box. "Hey, look at this!" Mello said suddenly, pulling from the box what looked like two film tickets. "Oh, what film did you two see?" he studied the tickets. "'_Juste une question d'amour'_? What's that?""

"A…movie," Matt said, shifting uncomfortably and taking the tickets back.

"Oooh, I see! Something romantic, am I right?"

Matt blushed and mumbled something incoherent, replacing the tickets back in the box. Mello immediately began searching through it again, pulling out more notes and film tickets. "Gods, you two sure went out a lot," he commented, and Matt could hear the disguised tone of jealousy in his voice. "You should just label this box 'Alex' and be done with it."

"Alright, I uh- think we've looked enough," Matt said nervously, placing everything back in the box and closing it.

"Aw, and we were just getting to the good stuff," Mello said, a rare hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Wordlessly, Matt put the box back in the closet and shut the door. For a few moments, he simply leaned against the wall, staring off into space. Then Mello's voice floated over to him.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Huh?" Snapped out of his reverie, Matt's eyes traveled back to Mello, who was sitting rather morosely on the bed.

"Alex. I can tell that you miss him."

"What makes you say that?"

Mello shrugged, looking down at the floor. "Just the way you read those notes, and how you look when you talk about him. I can tell that you still miss him, that's all."

"Mello, that doesn't mean anything," Matt replied, going over and sitting beside him. "Alex and I are through."

"Yeah, but you still have feelings for him, don't you?" His voice was devoid of its usual cheeriness.

"Mello…" Matt started, but then realized he had no answer. Wasn't it true that he did harbor some feelings for Alex deep down? He definitely hadn't gotten over what had happened, and he still missed him. Not as much, of course, since he'd met Mello, but still quite a bit. But he did miss him. "I-I don't know. I'll be honest and say I don't know. But none of that matters, because Alex isn't here, and I'm not with him. I'm with you. And I love you." He tucked a strand of the other boy's loose blond hair behind his ear. "Alex doesn't matter right now."

"But who's to say that if he ever showed up again, what you would do?" Mello replied flatly.

"I-I wouldn't -" Matt began, but once more was at a loss of words. He honestly had no idea what he'd do if Alex showed up on the doorstep. Though the chances of that ever happening were pretty slim. He gave a defeated sigh. "It's not like I'll ever see Alex again, so what does it matter?"

"It doesn't, I guess," Mello said quietly, giving a small shrug. His gaze still hadn't lifted from the floor.

"Look, if you don't want me to ever mention him, I won't, okay?"

"It's not that you talk about him," Mello said. "It's…the way you talk about him. You're still in love with him, aren't you?"

"Of course not!" Matt said, though he practically had to force out the words. "Mello, I love you." -That part was true- "What Alex and I had doesn't matter because it's over. And any feelings I do still have for him will never matter, because I love you more than that." He took the blond's hand in his own. "You have to believe me."

"I do," Mello said, though he didn't sound very convinced. "It's just … how can I compete with _that_? All those notes, and movie tickets, and from what you've read from the letters, he was intelligent and funny. I mean, he was perfect!"

This time, Matt gave a small laugh. "You definitely don't know Alex if you think he's perfect," the redhead informed him. "Sure, we had a great relationship, and -for a while- _he_ was great. But if you'll recall, he dumped me when my parents died. Do you really think I'd date someone like that again?"

A small smile curled at the corners of Mello's lips. "I suppose not," he mused. "He did sound like a jackass when you first talked about him at camp…."

"A lot of relationships seem perfect on the outside, but I can assure you that they aren't."

"Still…why me? How could you possibly like someone like me? I'm clingy, I talk too much, I'm hyper, I'm nosy, I have mood swings, I'm childish, I -" he would have continued, except Matt put a hand gently over his mouth.

"Stop demeaning yourself. All of those things are what I love about you. It makes you who you are." Matt smiled.

"…was Alex like that?"

Matt was silent for a minute. "…No."

The sudden change in expression kept Mello quiet, the blond instinctively knowing not to ask any more about it.

"It's getting late - we should probably go to sleep, or something," Matt said, his voice slightly distant as he went and turned down the covers of the bed.

"Um, alright," Mello said, slightly taken aback.

When they turned out the lights and crawled under the covers of the bed, Matt immediately felt a warm arm wrap around his waist, and the blond curl up close next to him.

Matt sighed to himself and closed his eyes. "Alex started off as affectionate, but after a while he changed – he would barely touch me after a while. He practically forced me to fall in love with him, just stringing me along until he decided he was tired of me. He would say sweet things, and was nice, but after a while it was over. I...I guess I figure your affection will go away after a while too."

"Wha- I'd never do something like that!" Mello said aghast. "Wh...is that why you were so weird the other day, why you act weird about affection and stuff?"

Matt shrugged. "I guess."

Mello was silent for a minute, but then Matt felt the blond move a little closer under the blankets. "I would never do anything like that," he said, almost sounding hurt. Mello tightened his arm around Matt and buried his face against the redhead's back. "I love you, Matt."

Closing his eyes, Matt gave a contented sigh and smile. "I love you, too."

* * *

><p><em>...Ma petite boîte de trésors...<br>__...Je l'ouvre lorsque je me sens seul...  
><em>_...Pour me rappeler d'une fois où je ne l'étais pas._

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 3-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>I actually have my own 'little box of treasures'. It mostly contains old precious notes from good friends, some jewelry a good friend of mine gave me before she moved away. It sometimes makes me sad to look at the things in it, because I remember the time it was writtengiven and who wrote/gave it... So I think the box could be a very touchy thing for Matt, especially seeing as it has notes from Alex in it, ****kuku.**

**Translations:**

**(the letter) -French**

**Hey, my dear~  
><strong>**I hope that all goes well.  
><strong>**I was thinking, since we're not going to the dance,  
><strong>**maybe we can go (window)-shopping or something.  
><strong>**Because I know how much you love shopping~  
><strong>**Or well, how much I love shopping.**

**'Gute Nacht' –**_** good night**_

**(rest all French)**

**'Bonsoir' –**_** good evening  
><strong>_**'Je te veux, d'accord?' -**_** I want you, okay?  
><strong>_**'Viens'**_** - come  
><strong>_**'Seulement si tu dis s'il te plaît' –**_** Only if you say please.  
><strong>_**'Est-ce que tu aimes ****ça****?' -**_** Do you like this?  
><strong>_**'Encore' –**_** again  
><strong>_**'Maintenant' –**_** now  
><strong>_**'Je vois...' -**_** I see...**_


	4. The Gay Guy Obsession

Kapitel 04  
><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Die schwuler-Kerl-Obsession  
>"<strong>The Gay Guy Obsession"<br>**_L'obsession avec les gars gays_

* * *

><p>When Matt opened his eyes the next morning, he was irritated to discover the sun just barely rising, the light coming in very softly through thin gaps in the curtains. Glancing over at the beside clock, he was informed that the time was only six in the morning. This knowledge only made him more aggravated. Why the hell did he have to wake up so early anyway?<p>

He turned his head and looked at Mello, who was still sound asleep with his arm wrapped tightly around Matt's waist. His expression was peaceful, with no sign of nightmares; something Matt was thankful for. The blond was breathing slowly, and Matt realized for the first time that Mello never snored. Jesus, he was even perfect and beautiful when he slept. Reaching over to brush a strand of hair out of the other boy's angelic face, Matt's hand barely brushed against his lips. His beautiful, perfect lips. Matt shivered slightly, though not sure why. As though unsure of what he was doing, he took his forefinger and gently traced along the blond's face, feeling the soft, flawless skin beneath his fingertips. Though he knew -while the blond's face was free of any marks or blemishes- his body told a different story. Matt couldn't imagine the pain he must suffer, the pain he just brushed off as nothing.

_"We try to find relatives for them to stay with. But sometimes they have no one, and other times the relatives they do have don't want to take on the responsibility."_

What would happen to Mello if he told anyone? What kind of foster family would he be living with? While Matt desperately wanted the blond out of his current home situation, he didn't consider a foster home much better. He could understand Mello's reasoning. Sort of.

With a sigh, Matt pulled himself up out of bed and headed downstairs, with the intention of finding something to occupy his time with until Mello woke up. As he went in the hallway, he could see the light on in his uncle's study, but didn't bother him.

As much as he hated getting up early, it was also kind of peaceful. At least he didn't have people bothering him. It was quiet, tranquil. He almost dared to say he liked it.

A warm pot of coffee was already sitting out on the kitchen counter, most likely fixed by his uncle. Matt briefly wondered if he'd pulled another all-nighter. Pouring himself a cup, he opened the front door and stepped out into the chilly morning air. A light fog rested along the horizon, unusual for the summer. The redhead sat down carefully in the swing hanging from the porch, and hugged his knees to his chest, occasionally taking a sip from the coffee cup. He stared up at the sky, which was still a light pink, the sun not quite completely risen. Gods, he felt like an old lady. What kind of teenage guy sat out on the porch in the morning with a cup of coffee?

They had neighbors, but they were the type that rarely showed their faces outside; so Matt didn't have to worry about unwelcome visitors. It was rather peaceful living in the country, despite the loneliness. So when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, he was a little more than surprised to turn around and see an unfamiliar face.

It was a girl about his age; someone he would have probably mistaken for Mello, had he not noticed the obvious breasts barely covered by the thin white tank-top she wore. She had sleek blond hair that was pulled up into a long ponytail, and upon looking closer Matt discovered she had brown eyes. On her bottom half, she was wearing a short pink miniskirt that would easily show underwear were she to bend over the slightest bit. "Entschuldigen Sie -" she began, and Matt nearly cringed at the awful and mispronounced German. "Sie verstehen Englisch?"

"Yeah," he replied, grateful that he wouldn't have to listen to _that_ through the whole conversation. He didn't even bother telling the girl that it should be 'Verstehen Sie' and not 'Sie verstehen' "Did you need something?"

"Um, yes, actually… See, I'm not from around here as you can tell - and I was wondering if I might use your phone?" Even speaking English, she had a funny accent that Matt couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Sure, uh - come in, I guess." He stood up, and the girl pulled herself up on the porch. He suddenly thought twice about inviting a complete stranger into his house, but decided that even if she did try to steal something, she wouldn't be able to hide it, unless she planned to stuff it in her enormous boobs. Plus, the phone was right in the hallway, so they weren't really going very far in the house. "So what happened?"

"Well, my car broke down a little ways down the road, so I was going to call a friend to come pick me up." She smiled apologetically. "Sorry to bother you…it's just, you were out on your porch already so I knew I wasn't waking anyone up."

A car? Then the girl must be at least eighteen, if not older. "It's fine." Matt shrugged, and handed the phone to her. "Just hang up when you're done." Then, on a whim, he added, "If you're hungry, I'm about to fix breakfast. You're welcome to eat while you wait on your friend."

"Thank you. That would be nice." She smiled again, and dialed a number, while Matt went into the kitchen. He glanced out the doorway ever so often, just in case.

When the blond girl hung up the phone, she walked into the kitchen just as Matt was setting food on the table. "Smells good," she commented, taking a seat in front of a plate. "Oh, I don't believe I ever caught your name."

"It's Matt," he replied. "And you?"

"Annalise - or, well, Anna for short."

"Hm." He made no other acknowledgement than that.

"So…I take it you don't live here alone?" she commented, taking a bite of scrambled eggs.

"Uh, no - I live with my uncle," he answered, taking the seat across from her. He really hoped that this girl wasn't going to pry into his personal life.

Thankfully, she didn't ask anything else.

A few minutes later, Matt heard a pair of footsteps on the stairs, and his uncle came into the kitchen, dressed in his normal suit for work. "Mm, breakfast smells good." He smiled at his nephew, and then turned his gaze to the stranger. "Who's this?" he asked.

"Anna," she said, standing up and extending her hand. "I'm sorry to barge in like this, but my car broke down, so Matt let me use the phone. I hope that's okay."

"Of course." Marc gave her a friendly smile, though Matt noticed he gave her a funny look when he saw the skimpy clothing. "Lecroix. Marc Lecroix." he shook her hand. "Did you manage to contact someone?"

"Oh, yes. My friend should be here in a few minutes."

"Well, that's good." he turned back to Matt and laughed. "Cooking breakfast for a woman, hein? Haha, you're looking into your future right here."

Matt's face turned a bright red. "Marc…"

"I'm only joking," his uncle replied, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm never getting married," Matt muttered under his breath.

However, Marc heard him. "Oh, sure you will. Not that it matters if you don't," he added quickly. He then laughed. "I could care less if you ever get married. And I wouldn't care if you brought an Asian girl home, or American, or German, or even a boy -"

Matt nearly choked on his food, and his uncle shot him a worried glance. "You okay?"

"Yeah, f-fine." He took a quick gulp of orange juice, while Anna gave a small laugh.

"You two seem to get along pretty well," she said.

"Never been closer," Marc replied with a smile. "Anyway, I have to get to work soon - so I'm trusting you and Mello to behave with a girl in the house, understand?"

"You don't have to worry, _really_," Matt assured him forcefully, though he knew his blissfully ignorant uncle would never get the hint. Marc had more to worry about when just he and Mello were alone together.

"Alright, I'll be home around eight tonight," Marc said, grabbing a briefcase from the counter. "If you don't feel like cooking dinner, just order takeout or something, d'accord?"

"Kay."

When the sound of a door closing floated in through the doorway, Anna turned to Matt. "So, your last name - it's French, right?"

"Yeah, but we have different last names. Mine is Irish, but I'm part French," he explained.

"I see. I'm American, but my grandmother was German, and my great-grandfather on my father's side was French," she replied, and Matt could tell she was trying to keep conversation.

"So you live here, but don't know German?" He raised an eyebrow.

She gave an embarrassed laugh and blushed. "We're vacationing for the summer. I learned a little German at school, but I'm afraid it's not very good."

Matt bit his tongue before he could agree with her, and simply shrugged. "Mine isn't either." _But at least my accent doesn't suck, and I know proper grammar._

"Oh, your uncle mentioned 'Mello'…? Someone else?"

"A…friend of mine." Matt blushed a little, and hoped Anna didn't notice.

As if on queue, Matt suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around him and someone jump on his back. "Guten Mogen!" a cheerful voice said in his ear.

"Good morning," Matt replied, his blush deepening a little as he realized Anna was watching.

"So…is this why you nearly choked on your food when your uncle mentioned boys?" Anna said, raising an eyebrow.

Mello's smile faded, and he looked at the stranger curiously. "Who's this?"

"Anna," she said. "My car broke down, and I'm waiting on a friend to pick me up. I take it you're Mello?"

"Yep." He smiled. He immediately scouted out the food, and fixed a plate.

"Not your real name, I'm guessing."

"Nope," he said cheerfully.

She cleared her throat rather unnecessarily and turned to Matt. "I take it your uncle doesn't know that you two are, um…."

"No, he doesn't," Matt said tightly. "And I'd prefer if you'd mind your own business."

Mello froze, a piece of toast halfway in his mouth, and looked curiously between the two, watching the disguised argument in their words.

"If you have a problem with it," Matt said steadily, "You can wait for your friend outside."

Anna gave a slightly uncomfortable shrug. "I don't have a problem with it. I just don't - agree with it."

"I don't care about your opinion."

"I just don't understand how a guy could like another guy. It just seems unnatural to me," she replied, her brow furrowing in slight disgust.

"That's your opinion."

"So, I'm guessing neither one of you go to church?" she said, a slight smile curling at the edge of her lips.

Matt's brow creased slightly. "I'm agnostic."

"And I'm Catholic," Mello said brightly, even though he only went to church when he was forced by his mother, and had really stopped believing in any sort of 'God' years ago.

"That's kind of hard to believe." She laughed slightly.

"What's that supposed to mean, exactly?" Matt said, taking a step forward.

"I just mean…how can you believe in God when you're doing something that obviously goes against him?"

"Get out of my house."

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out of my house." Matt's hand clenched on the corner of the table as he fixed Anna with a steady gaze.

Slightly shaken, Anna straightened her shoulders a little and looked from one boy to the other. By now, Mello had put down his fork and was standing beside Matt. "What you two do together is your business, but you'll face the consequences on Judgment Day," she said, briskly striding past them and out into the hallway.

"Go to Hell!" Matt called after her.

"See you there," Anna replied, and a moment later the door slammed.

Fuming, Matt stood in the doorway for a few moments, before taking the empty plates off the table and tossing them in the sink. They both made a loud clattering sound, and shattered against the counter. Mello flinched slightly, and took a step back, watching Matt carefully for anymore signs of violence.

The redhead showed none, though Mello could tell that he was beyond pissed. "You...didn't really have to throw her out," Mello said softly.

"_This_ is why I don't get close to people. Because of people like that!" Matt said, ignoring Mello's comment and gesturing angrily towards the doorway where Anna had disappeared. "They can do whatever they want, and act as un-Christian as possible. But then when the issue of homosexuality comes up, they make themselves out to be all for God, and start throwing that religious bullshit out there, when they don't even believe half of it! They just use it as an excuse so that they can declare something a sin or not. It's a complete load of bullshit!" he slammed his hand against the wall.

Trembling slightly, Mello put a hand on Matt's shoulder. "That girl…what she said bothered you, didn't it?"

At Mello's words, Matt seemed to recover himself, and gave a small laugh. "Of course not. I could care less what people think. It just…irritates me when people say stuff like that."

The blond could tell Matt was lying through his teeth, mostly trying to convince himself that he wasn't upset about it. Nonetheless, Mello said no more about it. "Alright. If you say so."

"Look, let's just forget about it, okay?" Matt said, giving a sigh. "It doesn't matter."

"If you say so."

Matt thought for a minute. "Say - my uncle gave me permission to use the car. You want to drive to town or something?"

"Yeah! Sounds good!" Mello smiled. "Where in town do you want to go?"

"I don't know. We could just walk around, or something. Or go to a movie - "

"You mean like a date?" Mello interrupted excitedly, his blue eyes sparkling.

Matt laughed. "Sure, like a date."

"Wow, I've never been on one before! What movie do you want to see?"

"Whatever's playing, I suppose. This town only has one of those old movie theatres - the kind that plays old movies that are already out on DVD."

"Oh well. It'll still be fun."

"Yeah, it will." Matt smiled. "Let me go get dressed and I'll be ready."

"Kay. I'll be waiting."

Matt hurried upstairs, and threw on a black shirt with Bill Kaulitz's face plastered on it in funky neon colors. Wearing a shirt with a guy on it pretty much screamed 'I'm gay', but Matt didn't really care; he liked the shirt, and he didn't feel like worrying over what to wear. Pulling on a faded pair of jeans with it, he brushed out his tousled hair - trying to make himself look halfway presentable. For a few minutes, he studied himself in the mirror, taking a good look at himself for the first time in what seemed like forever. He had a thin, lanky figure – but not the curvy kind of thin that Mello was. His eyes were green, but a dull kind of green – not bright and sparkly like Mello's own blue ones. His thick reddish brown hair always fell in his eyes, and it had become habit for him to brush it out of his face every few minutes. It was a far cry from the thin, silky blondness that was Mello's. The redhead didn't really find himself attractive at all. He suddenly recalled the last summer at camp, and how Emil had told him he was hot (not in an 'I like you' sort of way, of course. It was more of an 'I hate you for this' sort of compliment). Matt honestly wondered what Mello saw in him.

He was suddenly aware of movement in the corner of the mirror, and turned to see Mello standing in the doorway, trying to hide his smile. "I was wondering why you were taking so long," he said.

A red hot blush immediately fired up in Matt's cheeks. "I-I was just -"

"You look fine," Mello told him with a small laugh, going over and pressing their lips together. He then looked down at Matt's shirt, stifling a small laugh. "Bill Kaulitz? Seriously?"

"Bill Kaulitz is sexy," Matt replied, moving closer to Mello and leaning in towards him.

"Even more than me?" Mello joked.

"Way more," Matt assured him, kissing him lightly on the lips.

Mello gave a smile and a sarcastic roll of his eyes. "Come on already."

XxX

They went downstairs and got the keys from the hook on the door, and upon seeing no one on the porch, continued outside. Matt opened the door of the gray Mercedes parked outside in the gravel driveway, and Mello slid in beside him, his expression similar to when he'd first seen the interior of Matt's house. "You mean your uncle is letting his fifteen-year-old nephew, without a license, drive _this_?"

"You say it like he's an irresponsible guardian." Matt grinned.

Mello returned the smile. "I'm just waiting for you to crash it."

"I know how to drive, thank you," Matt replied, turning the key in the ignition. The engine started and the redhead slowly began to back out of the driveway. He managed to successfully pull out in the road, and they made it to town free of any disasters or catastrophes.

The theatre wasn't playing anything super-interesting, so they settled for something called '_Sommersturm_'. It was rated R, but for some reason the girl at the ticket booth let them in anyway. They weren't hungry, so didn't bother buying concessions before finding their screen and settling themselves in the very back of the movie theater. The two of them sat for a while before the annoying commercials ceased, and the movie actually began to play.

The movie, by some sick coincidence on Matt's part, happened to be a movie about gay boys. The film itself wasn't completely awful, but -in Matt's opinion- a little unoriginal. Typical gay cinema movie: gay boy crushing on straight friend. Gay boy has fake girlfriend to make people think he's straight. And Matt found it very hard to believe that there would be such a thing as an 'all-gay rowing team'. A little unrealistic.

On top of that, there was -of all blessed things- a sex scene between two boys. It was as if the movie knew what Matt thought about every night, and was intentionally torturing him with it. It was pure, cruel, torture.

Matt stole a quick glance at Mello, who didn't seem uncomfortable at all. The blond had his head rested on Matt's shoulder, and was playing with the other boy's hand. Briefly, Matt recalled his and Alex's first date - and the cruel, agonizing debate that had played in his head over whether he should hold Alex's hand or not, among other things. Mello didn't seem so shy, Matt noticed. He was partially thankful for this, as it meant he most likely wouldn't have to make the first move. Matt wondered if there was a possibility that Mello thought of the same thing at night. He secretly hoped so.

For a minute, they simply sat like that, and Matt didn't object to Mello's head on his shoulder or the blond's hand in his. Then, he felt Mello's head raise up slightly, and instinctively looked the other boy's way. Their eyes met, and the two boys stared at each other for a minute, before Mello leaned in slightly and completed the gap, pressing their lips gently together.

Making out in the back of a movie theatre seemed horribly cliché to Matt, but at this point he didn't really care. He returned the kiss, and soon the rest of the movie was forgotten as the two of them became absorbed in something far more interesting.

XxX

After the movie, the two of them walked around town looking for a restaurant to eat at, Matt being careful to stay a decent distance away from the blond, to save them the critical stares of others. He hoped the other boy would respect this distance, and to Matt's surprise, Mello wasn't as clingy as usual. He seemed to have enough sense to know not to be overly-affectionate in public. Though Matt could tell it was hard on the boy; whenever he pointed something out, he would grab hold of Matt's arm, and then let go almost immediately as though realizing he shouldn't have. After about ten minutes of this, Matt gave in and reached over, taking Mello's hand in his own, his face slightly pink.

The other boy looked down, blushed, and then gave a small smile. "I thought you didn't want people to stare."

Matt gave his usual indifferent shrug. "Who cares what people think, right?"

"Right." The blond smiled, and Matt could tell this made him happy.

They did get plenty of stares, but no one dared say anything to them. Everyone seemed too 'polite' to voice their opinion, which was obvious by the whispers going around every time someone saw them. Thankfully, the two of them found a _Biergarten_ called the "Haufbräukeller" nearby, and ducked into the array of tables and people, immediately putting on the act of 'just friends' again.

Matt once more thought back to dates he'd gone on with Alex, and how back then Alex had been in his place -as the experienced one- and he'd been in Mello's place -the newcomer. Alex had always been the one to take charge, and shrug off peoples' comments and whispers, to decide when they needed to act as 'just friends' and when they could act as a couple: 'protecting' Matt in a way. It had been Alex who would have thrown someone like Anna out of his house for a comment like that. Now Matt was the one with experience, and Mello was new to it. It was Matt's turn to be in charge, and brush off people's stares. He wondered if it had been this hard for Alex to take everything so indifferently, and worry not only about himself, but about the person he was with as well. Frankly, Matt didn't much like being in charge.

They wove through the mass of people drinking and laughing at their tables, to find an empty one under a tree in the shade, a nice relief from the somewhat sweltering sun. The Haufbräukeller was beautiful, and Matt -who had never been near a Biergarten in his life- couldn't help but stare around in somewhat wonder. He could hardly believe he'd been living in Germany for two years, and hadn't visited one at least once.

No one really noticed the two of them, and they were slightly thankful for this. Mello disappeared to get drinks, since Matt was more than uncertain of where to go in such a place. When he came back, he had a small grin on his face, and Matt raised an eyebrow. "What's with the look?" Matt questioned skeptically, slightly wary of what Mello might have done.

"The guy selling drinks actually believed I was 16!" Mello whispered with a laugh, handing Matt's drink to him before taking a gulp of his own.

"You bought alcohol? After what happened last time?" Matt said.

Mello shrugged. "As long as we don't get drunk, we'll be fine," he said breezily. He rested his chin in his hand and smiled. "You know, the Haufbräukeller was the place where Hitler gave his first political speech," he informed the other boy.

"Really?" Matt replied, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."

The blond nodded. "Yep. Quite a history, huh?"

"Kind of creepy," Matt laughed.

The two of them were silent for a while, not really certain of what to say. It was Mello who finally spoke up a few minutes later, though slightly hesitantly.

"So what'd you think of the movie?" he asked, a little too nonchalantly as he played with some of the utensils on the table.

"It was okay. A little unoriginal, in my opinion, but an okay movie."

Mello gave a small laugh. "Haha, well it was kind of the first movie I saw like that, so it seemed pretty original to me."

"I've seen tons," Matt said, then quickly added, "Not that that's all I watch."

Mello laughed. "I know that." He was quiet for a few seconds. "So I thought the guy who played Achim was pretty cute."

"Eh, neither one of them really appealed to me," Matt replied.

"How about Leo?" Mello joked.

"Ew. Just ew."

This amused the blond, but then a thoughtful look crossed his face. "You know...I kind of didn't understand why Tobi and Leo had sex right out of the blue. I mean, they'd barely even talked to each other up until that point. And all of a sudden they just go at it..."

Matt mused this thought for a minute. "I think Tobi was just so starved for physical affection from the same gender that he just kind of picked the first person he could. I mean, when you have emotions like that so deep inside you and that you don't tell anyone, it gets kind of hard to deal with. I can understand why he needed Leo as a sort of 'outlet' for those feelings."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Mello said. "I kinda wish it had been he and Achim, you know? That would have made more sense. Too bad, huh?"

Matt tried not to choke on his own spit. "Uh – yeah, definitely." He wondered if he was blushing. Mello was mentioning that scene with complete indifference; what the hell was he getting at?

His question was answered a few moments later, as Mello spoke again.

"So... have you ever... thought about that...with us?" he asked softly, not looking at the other boy. The blond's attention was focused on his now-empty glass resting on the table.

"Th-thought about what?" Matt asked nervously, though he had a good idea of what Mello meant. He knew he had to be bright red by now.

"You know..." Mello shifted uncomfortably, hesitant to say the next word as he leaned forward and whispered it across the table. "...sex."

So he _did_ think about it. This thought gave Matt a sick happy feeling.

"W-w-well y-yeah, I mean...what guy doesn't?" Matt stammered. "B-but I mean, I-I've only _thought_ about it..." _And dreamed about it...and imagined it...and wanted it..._ "H-have you?"

Mello shrugged slightly, his eyes still not meeting Matt's. "Well yeah, sometimes... I _am_ a guy, you know."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Matt gave a slightly nervous laugh.

"So, have you ever... you know...?" Mello began, his face turning red from embarrassment. The redhead could tell the other boy wasn't used to having these kinds of conversations; especially with other boys.

Matt was puzzled for a moment, but then realized what Mello was asking. "Wha-wha-wha- no! N-no, no, no...I-I never... no..." His face was practically flaming hot now.

A slight expression of surprise flitted across Mello's face and shown in his eyes as he looked up at the other boy across from him. "You mean, you and Alex never...?"

"No, of course not." Matt shook his head a little too forcefully. Was it just him, or did Mello seem a little too happy to hear him say this? A small smile crossed the blond's face.

"Oh...I just, always figured..."

"No, w-we didn't. I never have..."

"I see..." Mello looked back down again, fiddling with his napkin. "So you're a..." he trailed off, slightly reluctant to say the next word in the sentence again.

"...virgin," Matt finished. Even to himself, it felt kind of funny saying it out loud.

A silence rested between them for a few minutes, neither of them really knowing how to continue the extremely awkward conversation.

After awhile they started to make casual conversation, occasionally making jokes at people they saw. It wasn't until they were almost ready to leave that conspicuous whispers from nearby caught Matt's attention. Looking over, Matt saw a gaggle of girls about his age, talking in English, all huddled over near another table, and looking his and Mello's way. Their conversation could be slightly heard, even from Matt's distance. It was difficult to make out exactly what they were saying, but Matt could swear he had a feeling what they were talking about. The girls continued whispering, and it slightly got on Matt's nerves that they were whispering -or rather, attempting to whisper- about him, and probably Mello as well.

After what seemed like ten minutes of this, one of the girls was brave enough to approach their table. It was an American girl, Matt assumed since she had been speaking English, with brown hair and green eyes. Her face was a bright pink, and she was giggling slightly. "Excuse me," she said in German: hers wasn't so bad, at least, not nearly as bad as Anna's had been.

"Yes?" Matt sighed slightly, and Mello turned his gaze towards the girl as well. He hadn't noticed them whispering, and Matt had been careful not to point it out to him.

"Well um..." She glanced between he and Mello, and bit her lower lip in an embarrassed sort of way. "Are you two...together?" Another stifled giggle.

"What's it to you?" Matt said rather sharply.

"Oh, no, no! I don't mean anything by it." She smiled. "I think it's sweet." Taking a quick glance back at the rest of the girls watching her eagerly, she continued to talk. "Well, it's just...my friends were wondering and so they begged me to come over here and ask you. I'm sorry to be so rude..." She smiled apologetically.

"Why so curious?" he asked evenly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized again. "We just, you see...you two are really cute." Another nervous laugh. "What are your names?"

Giving another exasperated sigh, Matt reluctantly answered her. "Matt," he said.

"Mello," the blond responded, slightly puzzled by the brunette girl's sudden fascination with them.

"Oh, that's a cute name," she giggled. "Is it a nickname?"

"Uh...ja."

"My name's Michelle." She looked at them for another moment, and then her eyes came to rest on Matt's shirt. "Ah, you like Bill Kaulitz?~" she said, her eyes immediately lighting up.

"Sure, I suppose."

"I love Tokio Hotel. Bill Kaulitz is so androgynous that both genders could fantasize about him and no one would be gay, haha."

"Ja, I suppose you're right," Matt said. "Listen, we're just about to leave, so -" he began to stand up from the table.

"Oh, one moment please?" Michelle said quickly, and then hesitated again. "Well, see – you two are just really cute..."

"Just get to the point," Matt said dryly.

"Well, I was wondering if I could maybe get a picture -"

"Let's go," he said briskly, standing up and grabbing Mello's hand. He pulled the blond along behind him until they were completely outside the restaurant, and a slight few feet away from the door. He leaned against the wall of the building for a few minutes, breathing deeply to control his boiling temper.

After a few minutes, Mello ventured to speak. "What's the matter?" he asked. "You seem angry..."

Matt gave a long, bitter sigh. "Stupid fucking boy-love-obsessed fangirls," he said.

"Boy-love...you mean, like manga about boy-boy relationships, right?" Mello asked.

"Yes, _that_ manga. Jesus..." He ran a hand through his hair, only to flatten it back down again. "All these stupid fucking girls that for some reason think it's so adorable or what the fuck ever for two guys to fuck each other, that they run around giggling at actual real boy-boy relationships, without even the slightest idea as to -" he was cut off as Mello put a hand gently over his mouth. This seemed to calm Matt slightly, and he took a deep breath.

"Are you...okay?" Mello asked timidly.

"Y-yeah, sorry..." Matt straightened up and began to walk down the sidewalk, Mello following nervously at his heels.

"So...that girl was so interested in us because she's a boy-love fan?" Mello mused.

"Yes." Matt blew a strand of hair out of his face and put his hands in his pockets.

"Why does that bother you so much?"

"Because! We're like objects to girls like that, Mello. The whole 'gay guys are cute' obsession. All the girls want to have them as best friends because we don't try and fuck them. It's sickening! Those stupid fucking boy-love-obsessed freaks just look at us like we're God, or something! When they have no idea in hell what's it's actually like to be going through that!"

As Matt ranted on, Mello didn't cover his mouth again, figuring that the other boy needed to get all of it out, otherwise he would only continue to rant about it later. However, the redhead seemed to have said all he wanted to say. Cautiously, Mello reached over and took the other boy's hand in his own. "You okay?" he asked.

"Ja, sorry. I try not to get irritated with people like that, but it's difficult."

"Bullshit. You were pissed off, not irritated."

"Was not."

"You were pissed."

"What of it?" Matt said sharply.

Mello gave a heavy sigh. "Nothing, I just don't like it when you get angry like that, and throw things. It...scares me."

Stopping in his tracks, Matt turned and looked at the blond, whose gaze was fixed on the ground. "I'm sorry." He sighed, and rested a hand on Mello's shoulder. "I'll try to control my temper, kay?"

Mello nodded, forcing a small smile. "Ja."

They returned to where the car was parked, and Matt drove home in silence, though Mello just figured he was trying to concentrate and not crash. With his temper fired up, it was highly likely. The blond sat in the passenger's side, staring morosely out the window at the rain that had just started to pour. He would never say it out loud, especially to Matt, but when the redhead's temper got the better of him, he reminded Mello of his mother.

Matt noticed Mello's silence, and looked over at the blond while trying to keep his eyes on the road at the same time. "I'm sorry about earlier," he apologized. "It just pissed me off. I didn't mean to blow up like that."

"It's no big deal," Mello replied, tracing a pattern in the condensation that had appeared on the window. "It's natural for a person to get angry."

"Yeah, but I always take it out on you. I'm sorry." He quickly steered the car back into a straight line as he realized he was swerving.

"It's fine, really," Mello assured him, never taking his eyes off the window.

Matt gave an exasperated sigh. "Do you really want to be looked at as an object of some girl's yaoi-fantasy paradise?" Matt asked the blond.

"What does it matter? I thought you said you didn't care what people thought. You're always contradicting yourself."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Matt demanded, taking his eyes off the road for a second too long. He narrowly missed an oncoming car in the opposite lane, and the driver honked his horn as an obvious sign of annoyance.

"First of all, you say you don't care who knows – but yet everyone seems to know except your uncle, the only family you've got. Second of all, you say you don't give a shit what people think, but then when someone like Anna, or Michelle come along you get all pissed off and angry. It's normal to get upset about something, but don't lie and say you don't and then go and contradict that statement."

"I don't lie," Matt seethed. "I _don't_ care what people think," he added forcefully. "I just -"

"Everyone cares, Matt. They just do. It's human nature. You can't say you don't."

"Didn't Anna and Michelle bother you?" Matt fired towards the other boy.

"Of course they did," Mello said softly. "But I just brush it off. I honestly thought you were supposed to be the one with the indifferent attitude."

"Just shut up, okay? I don't need you telling me what to do!"

"I'm not telling you what to do," Mello said flatly. "I'm just pointing out that you always do the opposite of what you say you're going to do."

"That isn't true."

"Oh, really? Then will you ever tell your uncle about us?"

Both boys were roughly jolted forward as Matt pulled over and slammed abruptly on the brakes. For a few moments, he simply sat still, hands on the steering wheel, breathing deeply like he had done outside of the restaurant. "What does it matter?" he said.

"You don't seem to care if everyone in the school knows, but yet your uncle -who you live with- has no clue. Why not tell him?"

"It's different, with people at school...you can tell them, and you won't see them again when you graduate. But with family, you can't go back. You'll be living with them the rest of your life. And their reaction can either make or break that life," Matt explained.

"So you're just being a coward?" Mello stated.

"Who are you calling the coward? You were the one who let Emil practically fuck me last year just because you were too scared to actually admit you liked boys!"

"At least I admitted it!" Mello retorted. "You just want to hide behind this shell of indifference that you've created for yourself, acting like you don't care who knows or what people think when the truth is you _do!_"

"Really? What about that stupid fake cheerfulness of yours? You don't call that an act?" Matt said angrily.

Mello was silent for a minute before answering. "I may have faked a lot at camp last summer, when I really was unhappy," he began, and then looked over at Matt with shimmering blue eyes. "But I really am happy now, with you. That's not an act. None of it has been an act this summer."

"There's no reason for me to tell Marc," Matt stated bluntly.

"No reason?" Mello cried. "How about the fact that your boyfriend is living in the same house this summer, and your uncle thinks we're just friends! That enough of a reason for you!"

Matt's head snapped in Mello's direction, and he glared daggers into the blond's blue eyes. "Do you honestly think he would leave us alone for two minutes if he knew? Sleep in the same bedroom? Fuck no."

"I hate feeling like we have to hide."

"We don't have to. He's gone half the fucking day anyway, has it really been that difficult 'hiding' it from him? We just went around town together, where anyone who knows Marc could have seen us and told him. If I were trying to hide, we would have stayed in the house!" Matt informed him angrily.

Mello shrunk slightly before Matt's glare. "It's just...if he finds out the wrong way...won't that be worse? I mean, don't you think he'd take it better if he heard it from you?"

"How else is he going to find out?" Matt asked.

Mello blushed slightly, and looked away, without answering the question. Though Matt knew what he was thinking: if his uncle ever caught them together.

"Well, it's not like he ever will anyway," Matt said. "He hardly checks up on me at all. Besides, I don't envision you telling your parents anytime soon."

A strange expression crossed Mello's face, and his hand automatically traveled down to his chest where the bruises were, as though there was some connection. "At least..." he began softly, tears brewing in his beautiful blue eyes. His gaze was fixed in his lap, refusing to look at the boy beside him. "At least your uncle would love you no matter what! My parents don't love me anyway, whether I'm gay, straight, bi, or whatever the fuck else there is!"

Matt could feel a heaviness in his chest as he saw the tears form in the other boy's eyes. "Mello I-"

"Just stop, okay? Let's just go home."

"A-alright..." Matt hesitantly revved up the engine and resumed driving in the direction of his house.

XxX

When they arrived home, Marc was in the living room.

"Where have you been?" he called from his seat nonchalantly. "I was starting to get worried."

Matt wrung out his sopping wet shirt and flung his hair out of his eyes. "We just went out for a bit and lost track of time," he said softly, trudging into the laundry room like a zombie to strip out of his wet clothes and wrap a warm robe around himself. Mello did the same, without saying a word to him.

They both went upstairs, and Matt went over to sit on his bed. Mello stood hesitating for a few moments before going over and climbing into his lap, wrapping his arms around the redhead's waist.

A heavy wave of relief flooding his body, Matt put his arms around the other boy and pulled him close. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I- I wasn't thinking, I was stupid-"

"It's okay," Mello said into his shirt.

"I'm sorry," Matt replied. "I was stupid for saying those things. Of course you wouldn't tell your parents."

The two of them sat in silence for a minute, Mello curled up in his lap. Then, the blond sat up, wrapping his arms around his neck. The redhead held the other boy against him, but Mello pulled back and looked deep into Matt's green eyes, before leaning forward and kissing him roughly on the mouth.

"W-what are you-" The rest of Matt's sentence was drowned out as Mello kissed him again, harder. He and Matt fell back on the bed, their mouths still locked. The blond was the one to start the tongue war this time, his own tongue finding its way into Matt's mouth, exploring deep inside as the redhead gave a slight moan. Matt's arms wound instinctively around the other boy, pulling him closer, pressed against him. Though confused, Matt definitely didn't object. Before he knew it, his shirt was off and Mello's mouth had moved down to his neck, the other boy's tongue warm against his skin. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, a deep blush rising to his face. Mello's hands were working fast on his pants, proceeding with yanking them down. It was then that Matt came to his senses, pushing Mello up and looking into his face. The both of them were breathing heavily, and Mello was flushed. "Wh-what are you doing?" Matt said.

"Remember what we talked about at the Biergarten?" Mello said, blushing a little as his eyes traveled over casually to the wall, unable to look at Matt.

"Y-yeah, what about it?" Matt tried to shift Mello's weight off of his crotch slightly, but the other boy didn't move.

"I was just...curious," the blond said softly, placing his hands on either one of Matt's shoulders and pinning him to the bed.

"Curious?" Matt echoed, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah." The other boy looked at him this time in surprise. "Aren't you?"

"About what, exactly?"

"About what it's like..." He gave what could have been interpreted as a small smile. "I've always wondered what it'd be like to be that physically close to someone, to actually share a body with them for a time. I think...it'd be wonderful."

Matt gave a slight dry laugh. "I don't mean to deflate your bubble, but sex isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"I never said it was," Mello responded calmly.

"Look, it's not just something you do and get over with. It may not seem like a big deal to you because neither one of us can get pregnant in the matter, but it still is."

"I never said it wasn't."

Matt tried to will away the red-hot blush creeping up his cheeks. "You just-"

"Just what?" Mello said, letting go of Matt's shoulders and crossing his arms.

"Your first time...won't be your best, okay? Neither will your second, or third. It takes time, a-and -" He was cut off as Mello gently put a finger to his lips.

"How do you know, anyway?" Mello asked tartly. "You said you'd never done it before."

"I-I haven't! But I do know some things." Matt could feel his face burning as he looked away.

"Let me guess, from _Alex_?" Mello drawled out.

Matt was silent for a minute. "It just...might not be as great as you think it'll be," he said at last.

The blond gave an exasperated sigh. "I don't care about any of that. It'll be great because it's with you," he told Matt softly, leaning in to where their faces were just millimeters apart. "None of the other stuff matters."

"It hurts," Matt said bluntly.

"I'm aware. Jesus, you really think I know nothing, don't you?"

"I didn't say that..." Matt blushed again.

"Were you raped as a kid or something?" Mello asked.

"No, of course not!"

"Then why are you so against sex?"

"I'm not against it!" Matt protested. "I just don't think..."

"Don't think what?"

"I just...don't think you're ready."

"Why is that?" Mello scoffed.

What was his reason, anyway? Matt wondered. He would have killed for Mello to ask for this just a day ago, and now that he was, Matt was completely chickening out. "I just don't think you're aware of what you're asking."

"I know what sex means, alright?" Mello said. "And I also happen to know how to have it. Why do you think I'm so ignorant?"

"I don't think you're ignorant," Matt argued uncomfortably. "I just don't want you to do something you'll regret."

"Matt..." The blond gave another sigh. "I could never regret anything we do together."

"Tonight just isn't the time, okay?" Matt replied.

"Fine." Mello uncrossed his arms and slid off of Matt, who was grateful the other boy's weight was no longer on his crotch. He went over and closed the curtains to the window. "I'm going to bed."

"It's only seven o'clock."

This time it was the blond's turn to blush a deep red. "Well, then I'm going to take a shower. I smell like rain."

"Kay then." Amused, he watched as the blond grabbed another pair of clothes and headed off to the shower. Matt, figuring he had nothing better to do, went downstairs where his uncle was watching TV in the living room while going over case files.

Marc looked up when Matt entered and greeted him with a warm smile. "Hey. Everything okay with you two?" he asked, as Matt sat down beside him on the couch.

"Yeah, we're fine."

"Did you have a fight?"

"No, not exactly. It's fine, really." Matt busied himself with flipping through different case files again.

"Alright, well...if you ever want to talk..."

"I know, you're here." Matt sighed. "You've told me, but I already said that I never have anything to tell you."

"Yes, you've told me," his uncle said. He was silent for a few minutes as he jotted occasional notes down. "So where'd you two go today?" he asked casually.

Matt gave an indifferent shrug. "Nowhere, really. Just to a movie and around town."

"Haha, almost sounds like a date," his uncle joked.

"Marc..." Matt pleaded, his face turning bright red. He tried to hide it behind one of the folders, but his uncle took it away the next second.

"I'm only teasing," Marc said, amused by Matt's embarrassment. "You should go out with a girl sometime. There are a lot of nice ones around town," he commented.

"No thanks," Matt replied flatly.

"Eh, it doesn't matter. I'm just saying, you shouldn't be so anti-social."

"I'm not anti-social," Matt mumbled, his eyes flickering across the room.

"You should at least think about making some friends, here, at your school," Marc told him, giving him a steady gaze from above the top of his glasses.

"I don't like anyone at my school," Matt replied dryly. "All the girls are giggling boy-obsessed idiots, and all the guys are retarded."

"I'm sure if you looked, you would find someone you like," his uncle reasoned.

"I doubt it. Besides, I have friends. Just because I don't have tons doesn't mean I don't have any," Matt explained, flipping through the folder of some girl named 'Brittany'.

"But you should make friends here, people you could see during the school year," Marc said. "Don't you get lonely here all by yourself all the time?"

Matt shrugged. "I'm used to it. It's peaceful."

"If you say so," Marc gave in with a heavy sigh. "I just worry about you. Why are you so against the people here?"

"I just don't like them."

"Why not?" He persisted.

"I just don't, can we leave it at that?"

"Fine, fine..." His uncle opened another case file and wrote something down.

"So how's the kid you're seeing?" Matt asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Staying at the center. It's extremely hard to find families for kids his age, you know. All the foster parents want babies, or children. No one wants teenagers, because they aren't 'cute'."

"That kinda sucks."

"Yeah, tell me about it. The center is already packed full as it is. It's more hectic than usual."

"So...why is this kid in foster care, anyway? I mean, are his parents dead or something?" Matt asked.

"His mother's alive, but she was neglectful. He pretty much took care of himself. She was on drugs really bad, so we decided it would be better for him if she went into rehab for a while."

"And if she gets better?"

"He'll go back to her, I suppose," Marc explained.

"So, kids can be sent back to their parents if they go through rehab and say they're 'okay'?" Matt said in astonishment. "That doesn't seem right. The parents will always be messed up."

"Well, not necessarily always. Some of them do get better, and their kids are perfectly fine going back." He then gave a heavy sigh. "But sometimes it just gets worse for the kid. We can never know, and we don't have complete control over that. If the parents complete all the courses and tests, and the courts say their kids can go back, there isn't really much we can do."

Matt could feel a funny jolt in his stomach. So even if Mello did get away from his mother, it was highly probable that he'd go right back to her in the near future.

"Something wrong?" Marc questioned. "You look funny."

"No, no, I'm fine," Matt said quickly, snapped out of his reverie. "I uh – think I'll go back upstairs."

"Alright. You sure you're okay?" Marc asked, concerned with his nephew's strange behavior.

"Oui," Matt assured him. "Don't work too hard."

"Haha, yes sir," his uncle replied.

When Matt closed the bedroom door behind him, Mello wasn't in there, so he walked over and sat on the window sill, his knees hugged tightly to his chest again. He honestly wondered why he'd said no to Mello earlier. Hadn't that been the very thing he'd been thinking about for the past three days? For the life of him, the redhead couldn't think of his reasoning behind the matter. Perhaps he was the one who wasn't ready; did he wish his first time could be with Alex? Or was he worried because he honestly didn't think Mello was ready for sex? The blond certainly seemed to want it, but for some reason Matt was the one hesitating.

He remembered when Alex had jokingly mentioned the "Seme-Uke" rule: one on top, one on bottom. Matt knew without doubt who would have been on bottom in a pairing with he and Alex, but with he and Mello it would be different. Matt had no question that he would be the dominant in that situation. Did this thought scare him? When he thought about it, he never really liked being the experienced one that made all the decisions, he hated being in charge of any part of that. Was he worried he would make a mistake, or mess up? Why did the thought of being in a dominant position scare him so much? Or was it really that? It had to be, Matt reasoned, there was no other explanation for why he hadn't gone ahead and slept with Mello five minutes ago. His head started to hurt from all the contemplating, and he soon just gave up trying to figure out the answer. It was just one of those things that you always dreamed of doing, but when it came to actually doing it, you always chickened out: kind of like Bungee Jumping.

After a while, Mello appeared back in the bedroom and went into the closet to change into dry clothes, before going over to the dresser and beginning to comb out his wet hair. Matt got up from the window-seat and went over to the blond, taking the comb from his hand. "Sit down," he said softly, guiding Mello to the bed and sitting him down while Matt crawled behind him and proceeded with running the comb gently through the other boy's wet blond hair.

Matt caught the strong whiff of lemon-scented shampoo, and couldn't resist leaning in and resting his forehead against the blond's head and inhaling the sweet scent. Mello stiffened slightly, but then relaxed and leaned against Matt, closing his eyes. "Do you think we ever will?" he asked softly, and Matt knew he was asking about sex.

"Sure, sometime," Matt told him, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close.

"So when would you consider me 'ready'?" Mello asked, a slight undertone of bitterness in his voice. Matt suddenly understood why Mello was irritated about it: he hated being treated like a child.

"I just don't think now is the right time. I don't mean you aren't ready. But tonight, right now, just isn't best."

"How long do you plan on waiting?"

"I don't know," Matt said truthfully.

"Who said you get to make all the decisions around here, anyway?" Mello asked, turning around and poking Matt in the forehead. "Don't I get a say?"

"This is a decision that requires the both of us, Mello. It'll happen sometime, but not tonight."

"Tease." Mello playfully stuck out his tongue, and Matt hit him with a pillow.

"Look, I..." Matt began, blushing and looking down. "The reason that I don' t want to right now, it's not because I don't think you're ready or whatever."

Mello looked at him curiously. "Then why?"

Matt's face turned a deeper shade of red. He obviously wasn't well-versed in expressing his more intimate thoughts. "It's just... wh-when we finally do...y-you know, I...I want it... I want it to be perfect, special. I-I don't want to just "do it", I... I want it to have meaning."

The blond stared, slightly surprised. "Oh." However he then smiled, throwing his arms around the other boy and knocking him backward on the bed. "You could have just told me that, ya know~" He wrapped his arms around Matt's waist and rested his head on the redhead's stomach. "That's really sweet... If that's your reason, then I'm happy to wait~"

Matt smiled despite himself, his face still burning. "Y-yeah."

"Oh, you know what would be great? A nice fancy hotel somewhere, with a hot tub and a huge bed~"

"Wh-what the!"

Mello grinned. "If you're planning so much detail into this, then I at least want some say in it!"

"You're such a child."

"Yeah?" Mello stuck out his tongue. "Well then you're a _grown-up_!"

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 4-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>*I know it's probably a far-fetched idea that Matt would be able to drive – at the time I wrote this I didn't know the age for permitslicenses in Germany was around 17-18 (like in most of Europe), but I didn't feel like changing it all. The original idea is that Matt doesn't have a license but his uncle still lets him drive because he doesn't want him to be stuck at home all the time. I've read stories where younger kids have driven themselves in times of need, so in reality it could happen. I'm only explaining this in case someone was planning to point it out I:**

"**Anna" was someone I wasn't really happy to create. It's not because she was a homophobe, I just feel that her actions were...exaggerated a bit? I'm not sure, because I've never met an extreme homophobe before. And even those few people that are strongly against homosexuality and such (that I have met) are very nice to me (there's one girl who even still hugs me ****ö_ö****), so I don't really know if there are some people who would really be so -erm- like that in that situation.**

**Also I owe a major thanks to Aysa-chan for the Biergarten scene XD I was originally going to have them go to a restaurant (and we got into the discussion because I asked her about a German name for the restaurant). She then told me about Biergartens, and I decided they would go there instead. But of course I've never been to one, so I had no idea how one would go about entering/ordering/paying, etc... I think I spent about an hour asking her questions about it XD So I deeply thank you, Aysa-chan, for putting up with my many questions that day!.**

**- Also the Bill Kaulitz T-shirt idea was totally because I have a shirt exactly like that which I LOVE.**

**Translations:**

**'Entschuldigen Sie' –**_** excuse me  
><strong>_**'Verstehen Sie Englisch?' -**_** do you understand English?**_


	5. Concealed Scars

Kapitel 05  
><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Versteckte Narben  
>"<strong>Concealed Scars"<br>**_Les Cicatrices Cachées_

* * *

><p>When Matt first woke up to find that it was pitch dark in the room, he told himself he was dreaming. There was no way in hell he had actually woken up before the sun had risen. It just wasn't possible. Closing his eyes tightly shut, he willed himself to fall back into the pleasant land of his dreams, where there was no early morning, and he could simply sleep the day away. It took him about twenty seconds of this before he realized he was, indeed, awake. This realization did not make him very happy.<p>

All of a sudden, he heard a noise from beside him: a cough, which was really more of a hacking sound, accompanied by a small, low moan. Turning over on his other side and reluctantly opening his eyes, he could see Mello's outline, fuzzy in the darkness, curled up beside him, occasionally shaking violently as the blond coughed once more. Giving a heavy sigh, Matt sat up in bed and shook the other boy by the shoulder until Mello finally raised up himself and muttered a low, "What is it?"

"What's wrong, are you sick?" The redhead reached over to feel Mello's forehead, his hand immediately recoiling as he touched what turned out to be burning hot skin. "Shit, you're burning up," Matt said, a slight tone of concern laced in his voice now. "Probably from staying in your wet clothes so long before."

"I am?" Mello raised a lazy hand to his forehead. "Really, because I'm freezing..." he puzzled.

"Shit, shit, shit. Lie down," Matt commanded, swinging himself out of the bed and walking to the door. "I'll be back with medicine and a wet towel, okay?"

"Ja, sure." Mello did as Matt instructed, too sick and tired to even think of disobeying.

When the redhead returned, it was with two white pills, a glass of water, and a wet towel, which he folded over and put on Mello's forehead. "Take these," he ordered, handing the blond the medicine and glass of water. Once the other boy had managed to swallow them, Matt -who was suddenly wide awake for a person who had been so reluctant to get up before- placed the glass of water back on the table, and felt Mello's hand. It was the same temperature as his forehead. "Shit," he muttered again. He disappeared from the room again, this time returning with a long, thin thermometer.

"Hey, that doesn't happen to be a rectal thermometer, does it?" Mello said with a wry grin.

"Shut up. You must not be very sick if you can still be an ass," Matt grumbled, sticking the thermometer under the other boy's tongue.

"Haha, you said ass, and that has to do with rectal thermometers-"

"Shut up," Matt repeated. "Gods, you sound delirious. Just keep that under your tongue until it beeps."

"Thesth thir," he said, giving a small salute as Matt rolled his eyes.

The thermometer beeped after a few seconds, and Matt immediately took it under the light of the window to read it: 102.3 degrees. "Shit." He walked back over to the bed and jabbed a finger in Mello's face. "Lay down, and don't you dare try to get up, you understand?"

No words this time, but Mello still held up a hand in a childish salute. A few minutes later, he started the violent coughing again.

For some reason feeling like he was taking care of a sick kid, Matt scooted beside Mello in the bed and allowed the blond to rest his head against his chest, while Matt smoothed back his wet blond hair. The whole of his forehead was lined with sweat, along with the back of his neck. It was no question that the other boy felt awful.

Despite the medicine, Mello's loud, convulsive coughing continued, his body shaking against Matt every few minutes when it started up again. The redhead began to worry, as he wasn't quite sure what to do to help someone who was ill. He thought about going to get his uncle, but figured Marc was asleep and didn't want to disturb him. He sat there with his lips pressed against the top of the other boy's head, gently rubbing his back. For some reason, he suddenly recalled his mother doing the same thing for him when he had been sick as a child. How odd, the memory had never come to him until this point.

"How do you feel?" Matt asked, even though he knew it was a stupid question.

"Like shit. How come your aren't sick too?" Mello replied bitterly.

"Es tut mir leid," Matt apologized, kissing the top of the blond's head.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..." Mello muttered under his breath, and was then interrupted by yet another bout of coughing. He gave a slight moan and curled up closer to Matt. "I'm freezing," he said, pulling the blankets tighter around him.

Matt attempted to help the other boy stay warm, but it wasn't much use. He knew that when you had a fever that high, you just stayed cold.

"Matt..." Mello groaned a moment later. "You probably shouldn't be around me if I'm sick. After all, you might catch it." He sounded concerned.

"I don't really care. I'll be fine," he assured the other boy. "So long as you don't kiss me or anything while you're sick."

Mello's mouth opened and he stared wide-eyed at Matt. "I can't!" he cried. "That's not fair!"

Matt gave an amused laugh. "I'm only joking. But I probably would catch it, then, you know."

The other boy crossed his arms and pouted. "It's not fair..." he muttered irritably. Before he could complain anymore about being deprived of physical affection, another round of coughing seized him, and he doubled over, the sound of his coughing echoing around the room. "Scheiße..." he moaned, wiping away sweat from his forehead. Too exhausted to do anything, he simply collapsed against Matt, half-asleep and sick.

It was then that Matt heard a creaking sound, and looked over to see the doorway sliding open, and his uncle came into the room a moment later. "Is everything okay?" he said, going over the the bed where Mello was breathing heavily, his head resting limply on Matt's shoulder. Before Matt could even answer, Marc reached over and felt Mello's head, a concerned expression crossing his face when he noticed the high fever.

"He's not feeling well. I think he caught something."

"Oui," Marc agreed. "Do you know his temperature?"

"101 last time I checked," Matt informed him.

"Merde," Marc muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Has he had anything?"

"Just Tylenol."

"Alright. I'll go downstairs and see if we have anything to help. Be back in a moment," he promised, disappearing out the door just as Mello opened his eyes.

"Matt?" he muttered.

"Shh," Matt whispered softly, brushing more wet hair out of the blond's face. Marc returned with a bottle of what Matt knew all too well to be cough syrup: the nasty, leaves-a-bad-taste-in-your-mouth, smells-like-shit, cough syrup. He shook Mello back awake and lifted the other boy up slightly.

Apparently sane enough to function properly, Mello sat up on his own with a little help from Matt's arm around his shoulders, and then his eyes came to rest on the bottle in Marc's hand. An immediate look of panic filled his eyes, and he stared at the liquid with an almost petrified horror. "N-nein!"

"Was?" Matt said gently.

The blond only shook his head, scooting farther back against Matt. "I won't drink that."

Wondering why the sudden horror, Matt brushed a hand against Mello's cheek. "It's fine, it's just-"

"Nein!" Mello insisted, on the verge of tears. "Please, don't make me drink it!"

Matt glanced up at Marc, who seemed to understand something his nephew didn't, for he put the medicine on the table with a nod. "Ja, OK. Ich verstehe."

He understood what? Matt was thoroughly confused now. He stared at Marc, until his uncle finally looked at him and caught his eye. Matt gave him a questioning look, but Marc simply shook his head, which usually meant he'd discuss it with Matt later -or, in this case- when Mello had fallen back asleep.

After the medicine ordeal, Mello fell almost right to sleep, undisturbed except by the occasional cough. Matt stayed practically glued to the other boy's side the entire night, brushing hair away from his face and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He was almost about to fall asleep himself, when he heard muttering.

"B-bitte..." Mello's eyes flickered, and he moaned a little in his sleep. Matt knew now that this was the onset of a horrible nightmare, but he didn't know quite what to do except just sit and wait for Mello to wake up. The last time he'd tried to rouse the blond during his dream, he been violently assaulted.

"Mello?" He said softly, all the same, shaking the other boy's shoulder slightly.

Mello didn't wake up. He jerked a little in his sleep, and muttered something incoherent. Though Matt could swear it sounded like 'Emil'. He stayed still, waiting for the violent thrashes that would nearly kick him out of the bed. However, what came next wasn't a series of kicks and swears like before.

It was a scream.

"NEIN!" Mello cried out, giving one rigid jerk of his body against the mattress, his whole body arched in pain. "NEIN, BITTE!" his screaming had turned into a wail. "BITTE!" He was pleading.

Startled, Matt jumped back as the thrashing began. He didn't quite fancy being kicked out of the bed again.

As the nightmare continued, Matt risked being kicked as he reached over and took both of Mello's wrists, holding them against the mattress as the other boy tried to move. For a few minutes, it didn't make a difference, and the wailing continued. Then, it stopped, and Mello's eyes flickered a couple times, before finally looking up. Without even really recognizing who was there, he threw his arms around Matt's neck and buried his face against the other boy's shoulder, as he'd done on the first occasion. However, this time, he was still muttering. "Please," he begged, sobbing. "Stop her..." He tightened his hold around Matt's body. "Please... Emil..."

Matt could feel his heart skip a beat. It was not his name that Mello had muttered, but Emil's. He was still half-asleep. On a normal day, Matt would have been irritated it was the other boy Mello called out for, but he was too worried right now to really care. Mello was still shaking against him, sobbing. "Bitte, bitte, bitte..." he begged, whimpering.

"Es ist OK," Matt said softly, holding Mello close and kissing the top of the other boy's head. "You're fine."

"Nein, ich bin – bitte..." He cried. "Stop her..."

Stop her?

"Sh... you're okay, I'm here," Matt said, rocking slowly back and forth as the other boy cried into his shoulder.

"I'm scared..." Mello whimpered. "It hurts, please..."

Was he still dreaming?

Slowly, Matt attempted to pry the other boy's arms from around his neck to look in his face, but Mello immediately latched on tighter, his whimpering louder. "Please, please, no, don't go..." he pleaded in a terrified whisper.

"Okay, okay," Matt said quickly. "I'm not leaving." He wrapped his arms around Mello and secured him in his lap. It was then that he heard a sudden movement in the doorway, and Matt's head snapped around to find Marc standing in the doorway, no doubt having seen the entire scene.

"Qu'est-ce qu'il a?" he whispered, his expression concerned as he moved over to the bed.

Matt quickly put a finger to his lips. "Cauchemar," he whispered back, and Marc nodded, immediately understanding.

"I'd gathered that much, though," he said, giving a sigh. "Listen, when he falls back asleep, come to my office, okay?"

"S-sûr," Matt replied, slightly nervous. What was his uncle wanting?

"Alright then." And Marc left.

When Mello finally fell back asleep, Matt slid quietly out of bed and into the hall, down to his uncle's study, to find that his desk was surprisingly neat. For some reason, Matt felt his heart beating quicker as he sat down in one of the chairs facing his uncle's dark, cherry-wood desk. What could Marc possibly want, and did it have something to do with Mello?

"O-oui?" Matt asked nervously, fiddling with the ends of the chair armrest.

"How long?" Marc asked, situating himself in his own chair and fixing Matt with a steady gaze.

"H-how long what?" Matt asked, glancing back up at his uncle curiously.

Giving a deep sigh, Marc leaned forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the desk, pressing his forehead against his clasped hands. "Matt, I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer me honestly, OK?"

His heart sinking, Matt gave a numb sort of nod. His uncle was going to ask about he and Mello, their relationship. He was going to ask Matt if he liked boys. It would all be over. Matt honestly felt the urge to burst into tears right there. Maybe then his uncle would simply take pity on him.

Marc took a deep breath this time and stared Matt straight in the eyes. "Matt, I'm not stupid. I work with kids like that every day, I know all of the signs."

The sinking feeling became deeper, and Matt could of sworn that he had no colour left in his face at all. It seemed to have all seeped out of him, and if he could, Matt would have seeped right along with it, down to a spineless puddle on the red-carpeted floor.

"So, tell me, how long have you known?"

"Um...a while," he said awkwardly, staring down at the floor, the red burning spots into his eyes. He hoped that Marc wouldn't be terribly mad if he ended up puking on it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Marc asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

Matt shrugged, looking everywhere but at the man in front of him. "We just figured it'd be easier not to."

"How would it be any easier, Matt? I could've helped," Marc told him, leaning back in his chair and giving an exasperated sigh.

"What exactly was I supposed to do, just walk up and say it?" Matt replied bitterly. "I couldn't exactly picture your reaction."

"I always told you that you could come to me with anything. And yet you keep something like this from me? Matt, if you cared about Mello at all you would tell me something like this was going on," Marc told him, scratching his head – more out of fidgeting, as he always did.

"What does that have to do with me caring about him?" Matt said. "We kept it a secret because we figured it would only be worse if you knew."

"Not telling only makes things like that worse, Matt. You should know that. I mean, you don't just ignore things like that, especially when it's someone you care about or a friend."

"I just didn't know how you'd take it. I was trying to spare us, alright?"

"Spare the two of you what? Honestly, Matt, you need to tell me things like this. I -of all people- can help. I care about you, and I want to help you. And your friend. Don't keep these things from me."

"Sorry," the redhead muttered.

"So when did he tell you?"

"Uh, at camp last summer..." Matt said.

"Who else knows about it?" Marc questioned, fiddling with a spare pen on his desk.

"Just his friend in Berlin, Emil," Matt answered, carefully refraining from mentioning the other boys at camp.

Marc sighed again, and was silent for a good while, as though thinking over something. "No one really would have thought anything, a kid as cheerful like that. But usually they have it the worst. If I didn't know any better, I would've never guessed he was being abused."

"Well I didn't either until -" Matt froze, his uncle's last few words sinking in, and his head immediately snapped in Marc's direction, his eyes wide. "Wait, what?"

Marc looked up at him, his expression blank. "Hm?"

"You know Mello's being abused?"

"Yes, that's what we were just discussing. Did you think we were talking about something else...?" Marc asked, his brow furrowing.

"N-n-no! No, sorry, I uh – yeah, right, the abuse thing." Matt could feel a wave of relief sweep through his body, and he sank into the cushy armchair, heaving a long, deep sigh. "Yeah, uh – he told me about it at camp last summer, but I didn't think it was that bad. At least, he didn't make it sound that bad," Matt explained, trying to divert the conversation away from his embarrassment and blood-red cheeks.

Marc chose to ignore the slight awkwardness, and Matt was grateful. "Yes, a lot of kids pretend nothing is wrong and brush it off as no big deal. Their life is usually a lot worse than they say it is."

"I saw...bruises on him, soon after he arrived here. Bruises he didn't have at camp," Matt told Marc, his relieved mood suddenly vanishing as he realized the conversation they _were_ getting into. "He wouldn't tell me when or why his mother gave them to him."

"A lot of kids don't like to discuss it."

Matt was silent, thinking for a minute. "So...how'd you figure out he was?" he asked.

"The nightmare. I could hear his shouting, and went in to see. I heard his words, his reactions, his fear. It all fit..." He pondered this for a minute. "And the cough syrup."

"Cough syrup? What does that have to do with anything?" Matt asked, more confused than before.

Marc's sigh was heavier this time, and he fixed Matt with a rather sad gaze. "I don't want to upset you by telling you this," he said slowly.

"Don't worry about upsetting me, just say it," Matt demanded.

"Fine, fine..." He sighed for what seemed like the zillionth time in the conversation. "Sometimes, parents -and I've seen these cases quiet often- will, as a form of punishment or discipline, will force their children to..." he trailed off, reluctant to say the next part. "...sometimes force their children to...drink cough syrup, or other foul-tasting liquids. Often the whole bottle."

Matt could feel his entire body go numb, a funny constricting motion cutting off circulation from his heart. "Wh-what?" he managed to gasp out.

"I can only assume that his mother has done that to him, based on his reaction to seeing the medicine."

"Yeah, but everyone hates the stuff. I mean -"

"His look was of pure terror, Matt. I've been trained to know the difference."

Matt thought back to when he had been angry at Anna, and had thrown the plates into the sink; the look on Mello's face then had been scared. Had Matt reminded him of his mother then? A horrible sick feeling arose in the back of his throat, and for a minute Matt seriously thought he was going to puke.

"So, it is true, then?" Marc asked. "That his mother does abuse him?"

Matt looked back up at his uncle, and for some reason no words would come out. They were too obscured by the tears welling hot and fast in his eyes and the constriction of his throat. Before he could stop them, they had progressed down his face, and he was crying. "Y-yes," he said, his voice quavering violently. "H-h-he is abused. I-I just didn't know what to d-do! I always w-worried about it, b-but he didn't want to tell anyone because h-he didn't want to go to a foster h-home." For the first time in what felt like ages, Matt was actually crying. He had never known that the blond's home situation upset him so much, but speaking of it now -actually talking about what went on with him- made Matt's insides twist into a funny knot.

As he broke down into sobs, he felt Marc wrap his arms around him and pull him close. "Wh-what am I supposed to do?" Matt cried into his shoulder. "Tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

"There isn't much you can do, except be there for him when he needs you. If he doesn't want to tell anyone, that's his choice. I can always send someone there to take him away, but if it's not what he truly wants then I wouldn't feel right in doing it. Consider me going against regulation, but I simply couldn't do that. Try to convince him, Matt, that's all you can do. Just try and convince him to leave."

"B-but where would h-he go? H-he'll never agree to living in a f-foster home!"

There was silence for a moment, and then Marc sighed. "He could stay here, if it came to that. I would have no problem with it. If he ever decides that he doesn't want to be in that situation anymore, then he could stay here."

Matt pulled away from Marc and looked into his eyes, searching them for a glint of humour. "You're serious? He could?"

"Of course," Marc told him gently. "It's my job, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I suppose you're right. I-I can't tell you how much I appreciate it..."

"Don't mention anything to him now, alright? Wait until closer to the end of summer; there's no sense in worrying about it all now. You two just worry about having fun, alright?"

"Right." Matt nodded and wiped his eyes. "And Marc?"

"Hm?"

"Please don't ever let him know that you know. I mean, you are a social worker, and I think it might worry him to have you know -"

"Say no more." Marc smiled. "My lips are sealed, unless he ever decides he wants to tell me himself."

"Thanks, Marc," Matt replied.

"Now...what did you think we were talking about earlier?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

A red hot blush immediately fired up in Matt's face again. "Uh – nothing. I dunno, I'm half-asleep. Sorry." He bolted for the doorway. "Bonne nuit!" Matt closed the door behind him and practically sprinted back to his bedroom, stopping at the doorway and leaning against the wall. He took a few deep breaths, beyond relieved that his uncle hadn't been talking about what he'd first thought. Though it still wasn't good that he knew about Mello. That was bad. Really bad. Then again...maybe it was good. Mello would never tell anyone himself, but Marc was a social worker. He could help. This thought did make Matt feel a slight bit better as he opened his bedroom door and crawled back into bed beside the now-quiet Mello.

XxX

The next morning, or what was really only about six hours later, Matt woke up to find the comforting sunlight that could assure him it was definitely past noon. For the first time, Mello was still asleep at this hour, breathing deeply beside him with an arm draped across the redhead's chest. Even sick, he looked beautiful.

Careful not to wake the blond, Matt slid out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower. Glancing over at the bedside clock, he was pleased to find it was one o'clock in the afternoon: the perfect time to wake up, in his opinion. As he walked down the hall to the shower, he didn't see a light on his uncle's study, so assumed that he was downstairs, at it was one of his days off.

Matt always bypassed the mirror in the bathroom, as he never could bring himself to look at his own reflection. He wasn't quite sure why this was, but he never liked to see himself. However, today he studied himself carefully in the one above the sink after he'd stripped out of his clothes, for some reason he couldn't explain. There wasn't anything he liked looking at: he was too skinny, too pale and too plain, in his opinion. Whenever he complained about his skin tone, his uncle would simply laugh and tell him it was his own fault for staying inside all the time and not getting any sun. Even the small tan he'd gotten at camp last summer had worn away after a couple weeks. However, if Matt had to choose between pale skin or going outside, he'd choose the first one any day. He looked at his eyes for a few minutes, as though willing them to be less dull. Maybe eyeliner would help to bring them out more; Alex had often done that at times, but Matt would never be caught dead wearing make-up, so the redhead simply resigned himself to having dull green eyes.

Giving a heavy sigh, he finally tore his eyes away from the mirror and stepped into the shower, turning it to a temperature just hot enough to where it didn't scald him. He never really took long showers, but today he stayed in for a while, simply allowing the warm water to beat against his back. It was a pleasant feeling, really, being alone. He had time to think. Not that he really had anything he wanted to think about. Only when the water turned completely cold, did Matt turn off the shower and step out, wrapping a towel tightly around himself before going out in the hallway and walking to his room.

Mello was still asleep when he arrived, and Matt changed into dry clothes and combed out his hair, making a mental note to get it cut sometime. Almost subconsciously, Matt crawled over and laid down next to Mello in the bed, wrapping his arm tightly around the other boy's waist and moving as close to him as he could. A certain wave of contentment washed over him, and he closed his eyes with a small sigh. A few minutes later, he fell back to sleep.

XxX

_"Are you ready for your punishment?" Her cold voice filled the air with a certain menacing tone, and the boy before her cringed, as though knowing what was to come._

_ The woman raised her hand and struck him once across the face, leaving a bright red streak in her wake. A second later, she slapped him again, harder. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, figuring it would hurt less if he didn't watch. He could already feel the sharp stinging in his face._

_ After she was finished, the woman stood up and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him over to kitchen. "You deserve to be punished. Do you know why?"_

_ Shaking his head, the boy attempted to pull away. He didn't know what he'd done; he never knew._

_ The woman refused to let him escape as she gripped his arm tightly and pulled him over to the stove, where he could already see the bright red burner awaiting him. "N-nein!" He tried to wrench out of her grasp once more, but she only held on tighter, grabbing his wrist and holding his arm near the red hot circle._

_ "You need to be punished," she said again, a furious look in her eyes. She brought his arm down hard against the stove, and he could feel the scream escape his lips as the scorching heat pierced his skin and travelled up his arm, flaming throughout his body._

_ Blindly searching for anything he could, he grabbed the first metal thing he could touch and brought it hard against her face, causing her to stumble backwards long enough for him to pull away and bolt through the doorway. He could hear her screams behind him as he fled the house and sprinted down the street. It was pitch black outside, the only lights distant orbs from the neighbours' houses. His eyes searched wildly for someone, anyone, to help him. When he finally saw an occupant come out of their house, he picked up pace, running blindly through the darkness._

_ "B-bitte!" he pleaded. "Hilf mir!"_

_ The woman outside looked up at him, and her eyes followed him carefully as he arrived in her yard, out of breath._

_ "B-bitte," he cried, just now realising the tears streaming down his face. "Hilf mir!" He looked up at the woman with pleading eyes, explaining that the woman back at the house hit him and burned him. The neighbour's eyes filled with concern, and she began to motion him in the house._

_ That was when he could see a looming figure in the distance, and a moment later the woman's face was back, and she had recaptured his arm in a death grip. "Don't run from me!" she said sharply, attempting to pull him along._

_ "N-nein, bitte!" He attempted to pull away, and her hand came through the air again, heading straight for his face._

_ And then he woke up._

XxX

Mello hated his dreams.

Panting heavily, he wiped away the sweat on his forehead and stared up at the ceiling, as though still taking in the fact that it had only been a dream. His hand felt up and down his arm, searching for any fresh burn marks. He found none, and took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes. Images of the dream immediately flooded back to him, clear as daylight, and he quickly opened them again, whimpering slightly. Looking over at the redhead laying next to him, Mello could feel relief sweep over him. Even while asleep, there was a certain comfort to his presence. The blond sighed deeply, and reached over to brush a hand across Matt's cheek, the soft skin beneath his fingertips assuring him that he was awake and not still trapped in his dream. What an awful place that was. At least here, it was only a dream. When he went home, he knew he would have no escape. Back home, there was no waking up and everything would be okay, no opening his eyes and seeing the redhead beside him to assure him that he was perfectly fine. Home was the real nightmare.

He didn't really want to leave the room, as the only thing that comforted him after his dreams was waking up beside Matt, but he didn't very well enjoy being drenched in his own cold sweat, so Mello reluctantly drug himself out of bed and headed off to the shower.

Once he'd stripped down, he paused to take a long look at his reflection. He saw nothing spectacular in it. So ashamed of the bruises scattered along his body, he could barely even stand to look at himself sometimes, as it only reminded him of what he had to suffer. His hair was too long, but he liked it that length, so he refused to cut it. It was girly, he knew, and he'd often been mistaken for one, though it was his own fault. His blue eyes always sparkled for some reason, and he wasn't very fond of it. It only added to the already present femininity of his appearance. Though Mello was sure that -even if he cut his hair to a boyish length, and his eyes stopped sparkling- he would still look like a girl. His facial features were too thin, too 'pretty'. He despised it.

Sighing heavily to himself, Mello took another long look at the dark spots on his chest, and the faded burn marks on his arm. What he wouldn't give for them to just disappear. Unable to stand looking at himself any longer, he trudged into the shower.

Not really feeling like taking a long one, Mello quickly washed his hair -with the wonderful lemon-scented shampoo he'd found in the cabinet that he absolutely loved- and stepped back out in no more than ten minutes. There had already been traces of water on the wall, and the bath mat had already been put down, so the blond assumed Matt had been there before him, and must have fallen back asleep. Mello grabbed a towel from the rack near the shower, and proceeded with wrapping it -not around his waist- but all the way up around his chest. It would seem a quite peculiar habit to anyone who saw him, but Mello would rather seem weird as opposed to have anyone who happened to walk by see the bruises that covered his body.

Opening the bathroom door, he stepped out into the hall, holding his clothes in one hand, and the top of the towel in the other. He didn't look quite where he was going, and as he turned to walk down the hallway, he accidentally bumped into someone going the other way. The blond's eyes snapped upward, and -to his horror- saw Marc standing right in front of him, looking surprised. "Excuse me," Mello said softly, keeping his eyes down as he brushed quickly past him. _Please don't let him see,_ Mello pleaded inside his head. However, he felt a hand gently grab his wrist and he cringed, knowing that Marc must have noticed the bruises. "Ja?" He asked, turning around and looking into Marc's eyes.

"Are you okay?" Marc asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Ja, es tut mir leid." Mello attempted to pull away, but Marc's voice stopped him again.

"Where did you get those bruises?" he asked quietly.

Mello could feel a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, and couldn't bring himself to meet Marc's eyes as he lied straight through his teeth. "I'm clumsy, I fall a lot." He shrugged.

Marc looked beyond not convinced, but let go of the blond's arm just the same. "Alright. But, if there's something you want to talk about -"

"I'm fine, really," Mello assured him, turning back and continuing down the hallway to Matt's bedroom. Once inside, he leaned against the wall and took a couple deep breaths, dropping the clothes to the floor and holding the towel tightly against him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hide them. They were as visible as pure daylight. Marc would certainly ask him questions now, or turn to asking Matt. And for the love of God, he was a social worker! If Marc ever discovered where those bruises had come from -if he hadn't guessed already- he had the ability to stick him in some foster home somewhere. Mello couldn't have it, he just couldn't go somewhere like that.

The blond quickly dressed, and combed out his hair, staring long and hard at his reflection in the mirror. The bruises were covered completely by his shirt now, but he just never could forget that they were there. He fought the hot tears welling in his eyes, and went over to sit down on the edge of the bed, playing with Matt's hand. He ran his forefinger along the palm, and then brought it slowly to his lips. He really would miss it here when it came time to leave.

Mello wondered if Matt had already discussed his abuse with his uncle; Marc seemed to be the type that didn't delve into people's personal matters unless he had a reason. If he asked Mello about the bruises, then he must have a fair good idea of where they came from. Otherwise, he would just ignore it. He knew the façade he wore around other people was ridiculously transparent; there was no point in even trying. Yet, for some reason, it comforted him. Hidden behind the cheerful act he always put on, he felt that all his true feelings were concealed. Even pretending to be something he was not, Mello couldn't help but feel he had an obligation to fake happiness. It wasn't as if he'd get anywhere by moping around and whining about all his problems. He'd always been told to hide how he felt, to conceal any emotions and pretend like nothing was wrong. He'd simply become used to doing so. 'Talking' about your problems was strictly forbidden.

...Who had told him this?

His heart absolutely racing inside his chest, Mello padded slowly down the staircase and went into the kitchen, where Marc was sitting at the table reading the newspaper. He glanced up when Mello entered, and then back down at the newspaper. "Guten Tag," he said, taking a sip from the coffee cup he had resting on the table.

"Guten Tag," Mello said, and continued standing still in the doorway like a statue. Taking a final deep breath, he straightened up and walked over to the table, promptly plopping himself in front of Marc. "You want to know about the bruises?" he said, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

"If you'd like to tell me," Marc replied calmly, undisturbed by the other boy's sudden change of heart.

Mello gripped the hem of his shirt and briskly yanked it over his head, letting it fall to the floor, to reveal all of the scars and bruises beneath. The man in front of him looked up and stared at the bruises, his expression staying neutral. Then again, Mello was sure he'd seen much worse.

"My mother hits me," he said evenly, trembling slightly in his seat however much he tried to stay straight and still. "She did this, and she's done worse before."

"I see. And have you told anyone?" Marc asked, his voice still calm. Mello figured he dealt with things like this so much, he'd learn to keep his emotions in check.

"Just you," Mello replied, looking down at the floor. His confidence suddenly wavered, and he was back to the shaking, terrified form he'd been at first. "And Matt and Emil."

"What did Matt say about it?" Marc questioned, folding up the newspaper and putting it back down on the table.

The blond gave a heavy sigh, fixing his gaze on the fruit basket resting in the middle of the table. "He told me I should tell someone."

"So why haven't you?"

This time, Mello's eyes snapped to the man's face. "Because I don't want to -!" he stopped himself, fighting to control his voice. "I'd rather be stuck at home than at some shithole of a foster home, alright?"

"What do you consider so bad about a foster home, as opposed to a place where you don't even feel loved?"

"Because-! I... Even if home sucks, it's still home. It's better than staying with some stranger," Mello replied softly.

"So why are you telling me? You know I'm a social worker."

Mello's eyes widened slightly, with a slight panicked look in them. "You aren't going to send me away, are you?"

Marc gave a gentle smile. "Of course not."

"I just...I've never talked about it before. Matt doesn't even know half the stuff she's done. Emil only knows because he's seen it..."

Marc's expression changed for the first time, his eyes widening a little. "She's hit you in front of another person?" he asked.

"W-well, yeah, sometimes. It's not like she cares." Mello gave a nonchalant shrug.

"What kind of stuff has she done? In front of him, I mean." Marc's voice was beginning to sound anxious.

"Mostly just hit me, and stuff. Although there was one time-" Mello's voice quavered a little, and he stopped.

"One time what...?" Marc prompted.

Mello's eyes flickered from Marc, back to the table for a few moments. "Can I show you something?"

"Of course. What is it?"

Shaking slightly, Mello stood up and walked over to sit in the seat next to Marc. Slowly, he slipped the sweatpants he was wearing down far enough to reveal a cluster of bright white scars running along the tops of his legs: a place easily concealed by boxers or swimming trunks.

Marc's calmness was wavering, Mello could tell, as the blond pulled the sweatpants back up and watched the man's face for a reaction.

"What did she do?" he asked.

"...I don't quite remember what she was angry about. But..."

"But?"

"She broke one of the mirrors in the bathroom," Mello began quietly. "I was in my room, and she came in there and told me to strip down to my underwear. I did as she asked, and then -" he stopped again, and simply skipped a few pages of the story. "Emil came in a few minutes later, and when he saw what had happened he practically cursed my mom out of the country. He was furious – He nearly killed me himself when I still refused to tell anyone.

"Does Matt know about this?" Marc inquired.

"I would never tell him," Mello swore. "I don't even want to think about his reaction -"

"He cares about you, of course he would worry," Marc replied matter-of-fact.

"But I don't want him to worry. That's why I don't talk about it with him, or Emil. They just worry themselves to death about it, and I hate that. They shouldn't have to worry about my problems, when they both have problems of their own."

"What about your dad?" Marc asked him.

"My parents are divorced and hate each other," Mello explained.

"But does he know that your mother does this?"

The blond shrugged. "I dunno. He wouldn't care if he did know. He doesn't really care about anything, except beer and television."

"I see..."

"Look, I told you all of this to keep between us, alright?" Mello said.

Marc smiled and nodded. "It stays between us."

Mello stood up from the table and picked his shirt up off the floor, pulling it back over his head. "Thanks, for -you know- listening and stuff," he said to Marc.

"It's my job," he replied. "I'll help any way I can. If you need anything -"

"I know, thanks." He turned and headed towards the doorway, before stopping and turning to look back at Marc. "You know, Matt's really lucky to have you. You care about him."

"Of course I do, he's my flesh and blood." Marc smiled.

"He's really lucky," Mello repeated, before continuing and heading up the stairs to the bedroom.

Matt was still asleep when he opened the bedroom door, and the blond quietly went over and crawled in the bed beside him, resting his head on the other boy's chest. Surprisingly, he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders and pull him close.

"Where were you?" a voice said softly in his ear.

"Nowhere," Mello replied nonchalantly.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Ja, a little." Mello scooted up to face Matt. They were both silent for a minute, before Mello spoke again. "I love you."

"Hm?" Matt looked surprised. "I haven't heard that in a while."

Mello smiled. "I figured one of us was due to say it."

Matt returned the smile and brushed a strand of blond hair from Mello's face, kissing him lightly on the forehead. "I love you, too, then."

"Say, Matt...?" Mello began.

"Hm? What is it?"

The blond's smile faded, and he didn't meet Matt's eyes. "Are you ever going to tell your uncle about us?"

The redhead beside him gave a long, deep, thoughtful sigh. "Someday, Mello, okay? Just...not now. I'm not ready to tell him."

"I really don't think he would care, you know..." Mello said, his eyes still cast down. "You're his nephew, and I know he would love you no matter what."

"I know, I just – now isn't the time."

"I think it's the perfect time," Mello replied quietly. "Seeing as I -your boyfriend- am living in the same house with you for the next month or so, I think it would be a good time to tell him."

"Do you honestly think he'd leave the two of us alone if he knew?" Matt asked matter-of-fact.

"He might," Mello argued. "You don't know."

"Why are you so persistent about this?" Matt asked, bewildered. "You were the one who was terrified to tell anyone last year, and now you're getting on to me for not telling one person."

"One person who I know wouldn't care, Matt. He could help, I mean, you can talk to him about things -"

"What have you talked to him about enough to know?" Matt snorted.

"I just know, alright? And sometimes, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to about this every now and then," Mello said softly.

"You can talk to me," Matt argued.

"But we're both just kids, Matt," Mello protested. "You think you've had all the experience in the world, but you know about as much as me on the matter. We're still learning these things ourselves, and sometimes -seeing as my parents are definitely out of the question- it'd be nice to have someone who does know."

"What would my uncle know about being gay?" Matt asked. "And more importantly, when have you ever been this serious about something?"

"I don't mean he would know about that specific matter. I just mean that he might know a bit more than we do about relationships, and stuff like that." He paused. "And just because I may act like a child sometimes does not mean I'm ignorant!"

"Or are you just that curious about sex?" Matt raised an eyebrow, and Mello blushed.

"I wasn't thinking about that," Mello said tartly.

"Look, if you want to talk to someone, go see a shrink. I'm not telling him now, and that's that."

"You're so damn stubborn," Mello said bitterly. "It's just...weird, talking to him with him not knowing about us. I feel guilty."

Matt laughed. "Really, don't. It's not your place to tell him, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it."

"He's not stupid, you know. He'll figure it out sooner or later."

"One, he won't. Two, if he does we'll tell him then."

"But don't you think he'd take it better if he heard it from you?" Mello reasoned.

Matt sighed. "Look, can we just drop the matter? Please?" He pulled Mello closer and looked him in the eyes.

The blond gave a defeated sigh. "Fine." He pulled out of Matt's arms and rolled over on his other side, sliding out of bed. "I'm going to watch TV or something."

"Are you mad at me?" Matt asked exasperatedly.

"Yes, I am. And?"

The redhead pulled himself out of bed and walked over to Mello, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist. "I'll tell him, okay? Sometime, but not now."

"You'll just find another excuse soon enough. You put off everything; sex, telling your uncle. I'm beginning to think you're afraid of both matters, therefore you put them both off because _you're_ the one who isn't ready," Mello explained.

"Please don't be like this," Matt sighed, resting his head on Mello's shoulder. "I love you."

"I dare you to say that in front of Marc," Mello said bitterly, before shrugging out of Matt's arms and walking out the doorway.

-End of Chapter 5-

* * *

><p><strong>The scene with sick!Mello and 'nurse'!Matt was written because I had a fever around the time I wrote this chapter, and I thought about how sweet it would be if Mello became ill and Matt was there to care for him. So I simply had to add it.<strong>

**PS; I wanted to put all of Mello's dream-dialogue in German (like I had put Matt's wet dream in French), but I'm not nearly confident enough to do it on my own and, I didn't really want to ask any of my German friends to translate those sorts of lines...**

XxX

**Translations:**

**(French)**

**'Merde' – **_**shit  
><strong>_**'Qu'est-ce qu'il a?' - **_**what's wrong with him?  
><strong>_**'Cauchemar' – **_**nightmare**_

**(German)**

**'Ja, klar'** – _**Yeah, sure.  
><strong>_**'Ich verstehe' –**_** I understand.  
><strong>_**'Scheiße' – **_**Shit.  
><strong>_**'Es tut mir leid' –**_** I'm sorry.**_


	6. Bad Family

***The title is kind of a reference to the Finnish film "Paha Perhe" (Bad Family), even though the chapter isn't really similar to what happened in the movie.**

* * *

><p>Kapitel 06<br>**Chapter 6**

Schlimmen Familie  
>"<strong>Bad Family"<br>**_La mauvaise famille_

* * *

><p>The first words the two boys heard the next morning were: "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!"<p>

At first, they weren't sure where the sound was coming from, and they both sat up in bed, glancing at each other curiously. It was just eight o'clock in the morning, a time when Matt would have preferred to be asleep. The curses seemed to be coming from just outside the bedroom door, and the two of them slowly crept out of bed to investigate the unknown voice, Matt severely pissed off at whoever had woken him up. Opening the door, they found Marc pacing out in the hallway, muttering curses and swears that the two boys had never even heard under his breath. He seemed unaware of the two boys standing in the doorway, and he continued the fretful pacing and swearing for a few minutes, before Matt finally said anything.

"Uh, Marc – is something wrong?" he asked slowly, raising an eyebrow at his uncle's peculiar behavior.

Marc looked up at them, just realizing they were there and looking both surprised, and embarrassed that they had heard him cursing so heavily. "Oh, Matt. You two are awake?"

"Um, yeah – what's wrong?" Matt replied.

His uncle gave a long, exhausted sigh. "Your aunt Lucille and uncle Alain just called... They're coming over for dinner tonight...with your cousins Beatrice and Nathanial," he said slowly, accentuating every word with a bitter, clipped, distasteful tone.

This time it was Matt's turn to swear. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttt," he moaned, running a hand through his already tousled red hair. "Why them?" he almost pleaded.

"Wh-what? What about them?" Mello asked, not understanding the obvious unpleasantness of the situation.

Marc turned his gaze to Mello and pursed his lips, then bit the lower one, then sighed. "Sometimes..." he said slowly, the bitter, on-edge tone back in his voice. "...families disagree with each other." He paused. "We happen to be a family that...disagrees with each other."

"Well...how so?" Mello questioned.

Before his uncle could stretch out a reply, Matt quickly whispered his own answer into Mello's ear as Marc turned away. "They're very erm... "not liberal"."

The blond's mouth formed a small 'o' of understanding, and they pulled away from each other as Marc swerved back around. "Anyway," he said, his voice and eyes overly anxious. "S'il te plaît, s'il te plaît, Matt... clean the house for me while I'm at work, okay?"

The redhead nodded, not wanting to upset his uncle's nerves further. "Sure, no problem." He ushered his uncle towards the stairs. "Just go to work and don't worry about it, okay?" he said comfortingly.

Marc nodded, though it was slightly distracted. Matt had to hand him his briefcase and coat, as he would have certainly forgotten them otherwise. Afterward, Matt carefully led him to the door like a kid walking an elder across the street. "Everything will be fine, okay?" he assured Marc. "I'll take care of it."

"Merci, merci," he replied, heaving a deep sigh as he walked out the door.

When Matt shut the door behind his uncle, he heaved his own sigh and leaned against the wall, hitting his head repeatedly against the surface before Mello finally stopped him.

"So your aunt and uncle are homophobic, and that's why you don't want them over?" Mello asked.

"Why _I_ don't want them over. They're always making snide comments about my not having a girlfriend, and Marc not being married – when that really doesn't mean anything. They're critical about everything," Matt spat irritably. "They're the type of people that you can never feel comfortable around. They're so conservative and judgmental."

"Wow, suddenly I feel lucky for my family. That's not good," Mello commented.

"And this summer, of all times, when -" Matt glanced at Mello and stopped, and the blond knew what he meant.

"When...I'm here," he sighed. "Being your..." he trailed off.

"They would figure it out in a heartbeat, Mello. They're the kind of people that pay attention to that sort of thing." Matt's face paled slightly and he closed his eyes. "This is bad..." he moaned. "Why are they coming now? Gods..."

"Well, maybe if we just pretend really well..." Mello suggested hopefully, though it was a weak and failed attempt.

"We're screwed." Matt opened his eyes and shook his head. "We are _so_ screwed."

"Maybe not..." Mello argued, though it was just another pitiful try at optimism. "Or, you know, if worst comes to worse, I could put on a sundress and say I'm your girlfriend. I'm sure it wouldn't take much effort to make me look like a girl." He smiled.

Despite his anxiety, Matt laughed. "That actually does sound like a good idea." His smile faded. "Except we'd have to explain to Marc _why_ you're in a sundress."

"I could say it makes me feel pretty," Mello replied cheerfully.

"Good idea, but I'm afraid it would fail in the long run. Especially since you have no boobs," Matt said, poking Mello in the chest and walking over to the living room.

"I could stuff toilet paper or something in there," Mello reasoned.

"Are you just saying this so you can wear a dress?" The redhead asked skeptically.

"Oh, damn, you caught on?" Mello joked, wrapping his arms around the redhead's waist and kissing him on the cheek. "Don't worry about tonight too much, okay? I'm sure everything will be fine."

Matt sighed. "Maybe. Just, help me clean up the house for Marc, okay?"

"Sure. But, the house is already clean, isn't it?" Mello asked curiously, looking around the room.

"Believe me," Matt replied, shrugging out of the blond's arms. "Lucille would find something dirty in even the most spotless house. It's her job in life to find every flaw in everything and everybody."

"I'm sure she's not as bad as you say she is," Mello reasoned.

"Just wait until you meet her," Matt scoffed.

XxX

The boys spent the next four hours cleaning every inch of the house they could reach, straightening pillows, dusting tables, cleaning picture frames, and mopping floors. Mello insisted on wearing an apron the entire time.

"I feel like a housewife," he laughed cheerfully, grabbing a duster from one of the tables and pretending to dust off one of the windows.

Matt simply sighed and shook his head as he set a stack of newly-cleaned dishes in the cabinet. "You should've been a girl," he reasoned.

The blond playfully swatted him with the duster in response. "You know what we need?" he said, and began to look around the room as he did so. "Music!"

"There's a radio in the hallway," Matt told him, slinging the dish towel over his shoulder and walking over to open a window to let in fresh air.

"Got it!" Mello replied, and sprinted off to the hallway. Next second, Euro techno pop was blasting from the hallway to the tune of 'All I Ever Wanted'.

"Not 'Basshunter'," Matt moaned, as Mello came back into the kitchen.

"You don't like them?" Mello asked, grinning. "I think they're catchy."

"Sure, if you like peppy, techno, Swedish music," the redhead replied, grabbing a mop out of the closet.

"You don't like peppy, techno, Swedish music?" Mello asked curiously.

"Not particularly."

The blond then noticed the mop. "Whatcha doing?" He asked, following closely behind the other boy.

"I'm going to mop the main hallway," Matt replied. "You could grab one and help, you know."

Mello thought for a minute, and then happily perched himself on one of the tables in the hallway. "No, it's more fun to watch you clean," he replied cheerfully, swinging his legs under the table.

"You're so nice," Matt replied sarcastically.

"You bet!"

"So I take it you aren't angry with me anymore?" Matt asked, proceeding with mopping the front of the hall. "Or is making me work my ass off some sort of punishment?"

"Hm, I'm really _not_ angry at you, but now that you mention a punishment..." He trailed off with a small laugh. "That sounds fun!"

"Hilarious."

"Why are you so worried about the house, anyway? If she's going to find something wrong with it anyway, what's the point of going to all the trouble?" Mello questioned.

"What else do you suggest we do for the next hour before Marc gets home?" Matt asked.

"Well, I have an idea..." Mello said, trailing off suggestively.

"I don't think so."

"But you didn't even hear what it was!" the blond protested with a small pout.

Matt gave a small sigh. "Fine, what is it?"

"Never mind then," Mello said, stubbornly crossing his arms. He hopped down off the table and hovered over Matt for a few moments. "You need to cheer up."

"I'm cheered."

"Sure," Mello said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, liven up a little." He swiped the mop from Matt's hands just as the song slowed and began to sing into the mop like a microphone: "'E_very day, you're in my head...I want to have you in my bed..._.'"

"Okay, knock it off," Matt said, swiping for the mop. Mello held it away from him and began to skip around the hall, still singing and laughing at the same time. "'_You are the one...You're in my eyes... __All I ever wanted in my life..._'"

"Seriously, quit it," Matt said, though a small smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth as he made another swing for the mop. The blond soon made a game of jerking the mop away every time Matt reached for it, until finally the redhead wrapped his arms tightly around the other boy and wrestled it from his hands. Before he could pull away, however, Mello promptly jerked back and slipped on the wet floor, pulling Matt down with him. They landed, one on top of the other, in a heap on the floor.

"Oww..." Mello winced and rubbed his arm.

"What the hell are YOU saying 'ow' for? _You_ fell on _me," _Matt grumbled from his position underneath the other boy. He tried to shift the blond's weight off of him, but when Mello noticed he was the one on top, a pleased grin spread across his face.

"How many times are we gonna fall on each other, do you think?" he said.

"I dunno, but this better be the last time that your fat ass is pinning me to the floor," Matt replied, attempting once more to push the other boy off.

"Who are you calling fat!" Mello said, pretending to be offended. He pressed his hands to either one of Matt's shoulders and held him there despite the glare that he received.

"Get off."

"No."

"I said get off!"

"Nope."

Matt gave an irritated sigh and stared directly into Mello's face. "Get. Off. of. me. Now."

Instead of obeying, the blond grinned wider and leaned in to where their faces were just millimeters apart. Before Matt even had time to be surprised, Mello's lips were pressed against his, the other boy's tongue in his mouth. At first, Matt struggled against him, his hands pressing against his shoulders trying to pry the blond off. However, he soon found his arms weaken, and wrap around Mello, pulling him close as Matt deepened the kiss.

They continued the tongue war for a few moments, before Mello suddenly pulled away and slid off of Matt, doubling over, his entire body racked with coughs like the other night. Matt immediately sat up and put a concerned hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

"F-fine, sorry..." Mello coughed once more, and then straightened up, breathing heavily. Upon feeling the other boy's forehead, Matt saw that Mello's fever was apparently back up.

"Shit, Mello, you're still sick."

"Sorry. I was feeling okay, but I guess -" he coughed again, "-I'm still not quite well."

"Upstairs," Matt said, pulling Mello up off the floor and ushering him to the stairs. "Rest, now."

"Come on," Mello moaned, attempting to turn back as Matt tugged on his arm. "I'm fine."

"Don't overexert yourself again. Just rest, okay?" Matt urged, as they began to go up the staircase.

"You just want me upstairs when your family comes," Mello grumbled, crossing his arms.

Giving a deep sigh, Matt placed his hands on either one of Mello's shoulder and turned the blond around to face him, looking deep in the other boy's blue eyes. "Mello, that isn't true. I'm not ashamed of you, or what you are to me. You're sick, and you need to rest."

"But having me upstairs benefits you in that way, as well. An animadvert coincidence," he replied bitterly.

"You mean 'inadvertent'," Matt corrected with a sigh. "And that isn't true."

"Sure, sure, whatever." Mello turned around and began to go up the stairs ahead of Matt, coughing slightly as he did so.

"Mello -" Matt skipped up the rest of the stairs and grabbed the boy's wrist, turning him around again. "That isn't true," he said softly. "Stop being unreasonable."

"I'm not the one being unreasonable," the blond replied.

"You're not feeling well. Just get some rest, and you can come downstairs when they arrive, alright?" Matt held up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough?"

Mello was silent for a minute, debating the compromise in his head. "Fine," he said at last.

"Okay." Matt gave a relieved sigh. "Now lay down for a bit, alright?"

"Fine, fine," Mello gave in and headed off to the bedroom.

"Wait -" Matt called after him, and Mello turned around.

"What?"

"The apron..."

"Oh, that." Mello blushed a little as he realized he was still wearing it, and quickly tossed it over his head back to Matt, grinning slightly. "See you in a bit."

"Ja," Matt turned and headed back downstairs, picking up the mop and hanging the apron on a hook in the kitchen. He made to turn off the radio, but it had just started to play a song he liked, so he left it on as he finished up in the kitchen and living room.

XxX

An hour later, Matt was pacing the room like he'd been the night Mello arrived. If possible, his nerves were even worse, and not in the good way this time. He had already bitten his nails down to the nub, and one was starting to bleed. He gave an anxious sigh and grabbed a rubber band from inside on of the desk drawers, promptly slipping it on his wrist and beginning to snap it repeatedly. He'd heard it was a good therapeutic technique, and it was better than making a track around the room from his pacing.

At five o'clock, Marc arrived home. If possible, his uncle looked in an even worse state than his nephew.

"The house looks good, thank you," he said, hanging his coat in the hallway and setting his briefcase down. "Where's Mello?"

"He's still not feeling well, so he's laying down for a bit," Matt replied, following his uncle into the kitchen as Marc inspected everything.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Though if he misses dinner, I do consider him a bit lucky." He gave a small nervous laugh.

"Why did aunt Lucille decide to come visit, anyway?" Matt asked.

Marc shrugged and rolled his eyes. "Beats me. She probably just wants to drop by and tell me what a screw-up I am."

"You aren't a screw-up," Matt said comfortingly.

His uncle smiled. "Thank you, Matt, but Lucille just finds the worst in everyone."

Matt didn't really understand what his uncle was so worried about his family coming over for; it wasn't like he had to hide anything that she would point out in front of everyone. Matt was the one who should be freaking out about it.

"Say, why are you so worried?" Marc asked, and Matt was slightly startled. His uncle laughed a little. "I mean, you're just a kid. It's not like she's known all your screw-ups from childhood that she likes to relate to everyone."

Matt blushed a little, and tried to sound casual with his response. "Lucille is just a critical person. It makes anyone uncomfortable to be around her."

"Hm, I suppose you're right. But don't worry too much, alright?" He tried to give an optimistic smile. "We just have to get through dinner, and we'll be free."

"Yeah," Matt returned the smile, though it was a little half-hearted.

A moment later, they could hear footsteps in the doorway, and turned to see a tired-looking Mello walk into the kitchen. Disregarding the other person standing in the room, the blond walked over and wrapped his arms around Matt's waist, resting his forehead on the other boy's shoulder. "I'm hungry," he complained. "Feed me."

Matt gave a small laugh, hoping to hell that his uncle wasn't looking. "We'll be having dinner soon. You can eat then."

The blond gave him a small slap on the shoulder. "You're mean. I'm sick, you're supposed to be nice to me."

"Says who, exactly?" the redhead replied, stiffening slightly as Mello's head raised up and he felt the other boy's lips against his neck.

"Says me, of course."

His face burning, Matt quickly shrugged out of Mello's arms when he saw his uncle was watching them now. He grabbed Mello's arm and drug him towards the doorway. "We'll be right back," he said to Marc.

When they were safely out of earshot of his uncle, Matt whirled around and glared at the blond. "What the _hell_ was that! Did you not see my uncle standing right there?" he demanded angrily.

"Sure I did," Mello said, giving a nonchalant shrug. "What of it?"

Matt opened his mouth, but no words would come out. "Wh-wha...why!" he finally managed to gasp out.

"If you want to go to the trouble of hiding from him, by all means go ahead. It doesn't mean I'm going to do the same."

The other boy's face paled as he stared at Mello, his eyes wide with horror and panic. "Mello, I swear to God if you do this when Lucille and Alain come, I'll -"

"You'll what?" Mello challenged, narrowing his eyes at Matt. "Break up with me?"

Words caught in the back of Matt's throat, and he stood there stuttering for a few moments, before he finally could gasp anything out. "Mello, please, just for tonight can you respect my decision not to tell my family?" He pleaded.

The blond crossed his arms and looked down at the floor. "Fine."

Matt put a hand on either one of Mello's shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Please, Mello?" he begged.

This time, Mello met his eyes with a lazy stare. "Fine." He shrugged out of Matt's hands and turned back towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Matt said anxiously.

"To get a snack." Mello turned around and held up his hands in surrender. "Don't worry, I won't tell your uncle anything." He rolled his eyes as he went through the doorway.

XxX

Marc almost had a panic attack when the doorbell rang that night.

If Matt hadn't been scared to death himself, he would have found his uncle's anxiety quite amusing. He and Mello followed Marc quietly to the main hallway, where he was opening the door for a group of very serious-looking people.

A tall woman moved forward in the doorway, her sharp blue eyes already darting around the room. Her black hair was pulled up into a tight bun at the top of her head, and her face was stretched tight at the corners, as though she'd just come back from a face lift. It was a woman that might have been pretty in her younger days, but was certainly no beauty now. Her critical gaze went around the perimeter of the room, before coming back to rest on Marc. "Why, Marc, what a nice house you have," she said, though a little sarcastically. She was speaking French, so Mello could only look to Matt to see if it was something he needed to be concerned about.

"Merci, Lucille," he replied, taking her coat and hanging it near the doorway. "Please, come inside and make yourself comfortable."

She stepped inside, turning and motioning for the three people with her to follow. The man with her had dark brown hair, and brown eyes. He looked rather bored, as though he didn't quite want to be here, or with the black-haired woman. His face was relaxed and showed onsets of wrinkling, but he could be no more than thirty-six or so. He quietly stepped inside and shook Marc's hand. "Bonjour," he said, nodding slightly. Marc returned the gesture, and pointed him towards the living room.

The two others with Lucille were a boy and girl, the boy about six or so, and the girl looking to be in her teens. The boy had black hair like his mother, and with the sour expression he was wearing, he looked a little like a mini-Emil to Matt. He hadn't seen either of his cousins for years, so it was no surprise that he barely recognized them. The girl was pretty, but a little on the plain side. She had strawberry blond hair that reached her waist and curled at the ends, and brown eyes matching her father's. She smiled politely to Marc, and then her gaze traveled back to the two boys. She held up a hand to wave at Matt, and then looked towards Mello, a small blush creeping up into her cheeks as she ducked into the living room after her parents and brother.

When Matt and Mello arrived in the living room, everyone was just seating themselves, and the two boys grabbed a spot near the end of one of the couches, unfortunately, facing Lucille. She regarded Matt for a moment, before plastering on a smile and ushering him forward to her seat.

"Why, Mail," she said, and the redhead cringed slightly as she used his name and put a hand on either side of his cheeks, studying him. "It's been so long since I saw you," she chattered rapidly in French. "You have your mother's eyes," she said approvingly. She then noticed the blond boy sitting across from her, and she pushed Matt out of the way to get a better look. "And who is this?" she asked.

"M-Mello," Matt explained. "A friend."

"Oh, I see." Her smile widened. "Mello – that's quite a funny name. A nickname, I suppose?" she asked.

"Yes," Matt replied. "He doesn't know French."

"Oh, forgive me," she gave a small laugh. "I'm Lucille," she said in English, extending her hand. "You do speak English, don't you?" she added, as Mello slowly reached over and shook her hand.

"Yes," he replied, nodding slightly.

"So you...you're an authentic German?" she noted, regarding the blond hair and blue eyes on the other boy.

Mello glanced quickly at Matt, and then back at Lucille, shifting uncomfortably. "Well, yeah – I suppose..." he said.

"This is my husband, Alain," she said, motioning to the man sitting on her left. "And my son, Nathanial," she pointed to the boy, "And my daughter, Beatrice." She motioned towards the blond girl, who blushed and gave a small wave.

"Alright," Marc said quickly, interrupting the conversation. "Dinner is almost ready. Would anyone like a drink beforehand?" he asked.

"I'll have a wine, please," Lucille said, holding up a hand.

"Done. Anyone else?"

No one else spoke up, so Marc disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the boys to fend for themselves.

"So, where did you and Mail meet?" Lucille asked, as though Marc had never even spoken. "At school?"

"Erm, no," Mello replied. "It was at a summer camp."

At this, Lucille laughed. "Mail? At a summer camp? I find that hard to believe."

"Marc's idea," Matt muttered, his face burning.

"Ah, of course." Lucille's expression became slightly distasted. "He always does try to get other people to think or do things that he believes or wants." She glanced towards the kitchen for a second, and then back to the two boys. "So tell me, Mail, are you seeing anyone?" she asked, smiling now, though it was one of those smiles that told you if you said the wrong answer, she was going to go on and on about it.

"Um, no, not really," he said, shifting slightly.

"Oh, really?" her eyes widened slightly. "No cute girls that you're interested in?"

"Uh, no, not really," he repeated.

"What about you?" she asked kindly, turning to Mello. "A guy with your looks, you must get all the girls, non?"

"Uh, not exactly," Mello replied uncomfortably.

"Well that's a surprise. Two guys like you, I figure you should be fighting them off with a stick." She laughed, and then turned towards the blond girl. "You know, my daughter, Beatrice, is taking German classes at school. She's almost near fluent; she was hoping to move to Germany in the future. And she always told me, 'Mother, I'm going to marry a German man someday'." Lucille laughed, and then turned back towards Mello. "Why don't you listen to some of her German? She's still having trouble with a few words, and maybe you could help her?" she gave a knowing smile.

"Maman, please," Beatrice said, looking down towards the floor and blushing. "Leave the poor boy alone."

"Of course, I'm sorry." She laughed again.

Mello and Matt glanced at each other when she had her head turned, and Matt gave him a look as though to say, 'I told you so'.

Thankfully, Marc came into the room at that moment, announcing that dinner was ready. They all seated themselves around the table in the dining room, taking a plate and piling food on it. Lucille sat directly across from Mello and Matt, something they weren't very happy about. She watched them like a hawk the entire time, her eyes darting back and forth to each one. They couldn't even talk in German, as Beatrice was sitting right beside her mother, and would no doubt understand the conversation.

"Oh, did you hear?" Lucille said a few minutes into the dinner, and Marc -who was sitting on the other side of Matt, and another reason the two boys couldn't speak in German- turned his attention to her, as did the two boys beside him.

"Yes? What is it?"

"You know Pierre Chevault, the nice man that owns that bookstore in Paris?" She nodded, before waiting for anyone to answer. "Well, I hear that his son, Donovan, got a young girl..." she leaned in to whisper the next word as though it were a swear, "p_regnant_."

Marc didn't meet Lucille's eyes, his attention unnaturally focused on his food. "You don't know that for sure, Lucille. You always just focus on the latest gossip. And even if it is, what concern is it of yours?"

"Marc!" she said, sounding shocked. "Think of the shame that he's brought to his father. All the customers his father will lose because of him..."

"Yes it was a mistake, but I see nothing to be ashamed of, Lucille. And besides, he didn't do this to purposely ruin his father's business or reputation," Marc replied calmly.

She gave an aggravated sigh. "Always the liberal man, you were." Lucille rolled her eyes. "You honestly don't know where to draw the line sometimes."

"You already know we have very different opinions on these sorts of matters, Lucille," Marc replied.

"Yes, I'm aware," she said dryly.

Mello and Matt glanced at each other, wondering what she meant, though they quickly averted their gaze in case Lucille was looking. She seemed to have her attention focused on Marc now, so Mello felt safe in reaching out for a bowl of food across the table. However, just at that moment, Lucille's eyes snapped back to them, and her gaze immediately traveled to the line of scars along Mello's arm, which he quickly hid underneath the table as he realized she had seen.

"Oh, what happened?" she said. "Don't tell me you're one of those people that cuts themselves," she added, her brow furrowing in what could be interpreted as fake concern.

Mello simply fixed his gaze on his lap, and Marc spared him the task of replying.

"Why don't you mind your own business for once, Lucille?" he said.

Looking slightly taken aback, she simply turned her attention back to Matt. "So, Mail, tell me – what grade will you be in this year?"

"Uh, deuxième," Matt replied, using the French term to avoid confusion.

"I see." She folded her hands and rested them under her chin. "And what classes are you taking?"

"Um, just some computer programming classes, and a few other technical courses along with a second language course."

"Second language? What would that be?"

"Norwegian," he replied, taking a sip from his glass and hoping that the questions would end soon.

"Du lukter fot," Mello said, and Matt nearly spit out the drink he'd just taken as he stifled a laugh.

"What did he say?" Lucille demanded, her eyes widening with curiosity as she looked around.

"Oh, uh...nothing," Matt replied. "He uh... just said you were very pretty."

"Oh why thank you," Lucille said, smiling politely. The two boys had to hold back more laughter. "Anyway, Norwegian, interesting..." Lucille nodded her head slightly. "I suppose since you already know about four, there aren't many options. Just like your uncle with the linguistics, huh?" Although she acted proud, they could tell her tone was disapproving. "German, French, English – you're on quite the right track. Technical courses – creative. If you keep it up, you might end up just like Marc. Not married and living alone at thirty-seven years old in a house that could hold three families." She gave a sympathetic sort of smile.

"If you ask me, I think he's doing just fine," Matt replied tartly, and Lucille blanched slightly at the unexpected retort.

"Yes, of course," she said with a dry tone. "He's a – what again? Social something?"

"Social Worker," Marc answered for Matt, gazing up at Lucille.

"Oh, right. You work with the messed up kids, I remember now." She nodded deeply. "Always worrying about everyone but your own family..." she muttered, playing with her food.

"Maman, please," Beatrice said softly, laying a hand on her mother's shoulder.

"This is not the place to discuss it," Marc said testily, and then glanced at Mello. "Especially in front of guests."

"Right, forgive me." She gave the fake little smile again. "So, how long are you staying here?" she asked Mello.

"Um, for part of the summer," he replied.

"I see. And where do you live?" Lucille inquired, her food completely ignored as she continued quizzing the two of them.

"Berlin," he replied.

"Oh, interesting." A certain sarcastic hint was embedded into her voice.

"Lucille, why don't you focus on eating instead of quizzing the poor boy about everything?" Marc said, raising an eyebrow.

Lucille blushed slightly, but quickly regained composure. "Of course, I apologize." She quickly dug into her food, though with a certain air of satisfaction. "Say, you," she addressed Mello. "You're done eating, non?" She regarded his empty plate. "Why don't you show Beatrice around the house while the rest of us finish?"

"Maman, please," Beatrice whispered.

"Sure, uh, I don't mind," Mello said, standing up from the table and glancing once at Matt before turning to the blond girl in front of him. "It's no trouble."

Beatrice blushed slightly, as she stood up from the table and walked around to where Mello was standing. "I'm sorry," she mouthed apologetically.

"No problem." He shrugged, and Matt could have sworn he saw a smirk on the other boy's face as they left the room. _If that little fucker thinks this is going to make me jealous, he's sorely mistaken_, he thought bitterly, though he did feel a twinge of irritation as he watched them leave together.

"So, Mail," Lucille said, and Matt's head immediately snapped back in her direction. "How have you been getting along?" False sympathy clouded her eyes. "I mean, after the...accident."

Matt's hand gripped his glass a little harder than necessary as he took a sip. "I've been fine," he said, averting his aunt's gaze.

"When it happened, I was so shocked. I mean, I just never imagined that something like that would happen to Cecilia... Of course," she said, her tone slightly clipped as she nonchalantly picked at her food again. "It never would have happened if she hadn't married that Irish man..."

Before Matt could retort or break something, Marc spoke up. "Lucille, you know that's not the reason for what happened."

"I'm just saying..." she shrugged. "If he hadn't had that trip, then Cecilia never would've been on that plane."

"It was her decision to go, it had nothing to do with Kane. You know that."

"Oh really? You always were taking up for him..." Lucille trailed off.

"Lucille, this isn't the time," Alain whispered from beside her.

"What?" she asked innocently. "The company is no longer in here. I believe we can discuss it freely."

"Please, Lucille, he doesn't need to hear this," Marc said quietly, glancing at Matt.

This time, a smirk spread across Lucille's face. "The boy should know his own uncle."

"It is something for he and I to discuss when the time is right," Marc replied. "Not now."

"Discuss what?" Matt said, glancing between Lucille and Marc.

"Nothing. Why don't you go see where Mello and Beatrice went off to?" Marc said quickly.

Matt was just about to stand up from the table, when Lucille's voice made him freeze. "He can stay in here. He's old enough to know now, don't you think? He is just like you, after all." Her grin widened.

"This is different, and you know it," Marc said harshly, glaring at his sister. "Now is not the time to discuss it."

Before Lucille could press further, Beatrice poked her head in the room. "Is everything okay? I heard arguing."

Lucille immediately plastered on her fake smile. "Everything's fine, darling."

Mello came into the room a moment later, looking from Matt, to Marc, to Lucille. "What?"

"Matt, why don't you and the others go into the living room while we discuss this?" Marc said quietly.

This time, the redhead took no hesitation in jumping out of his seat and walking out of the room, dragging Mello with him. Beatrice and Nathanial followed right behind them.

"Matt, your uncle -" Beatrice said. "Is something going on?"

"The hell if I know. I don't even know what they're arguing about," Matt complained, crossing his arms as he leaned against the banister of the staircase.

"Why don't we listen in?" Mello suggested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"I don't think so. Let them argue. So what?" Matt walked over and snatched something off of the hallway table, stalking out the front door. He hadn't been out there but a few seconds, when Mello appeared, shutting the door behind him and walking over to where Matt was leaning against the house, opening what must have been a pack of Marc's cigarettes.

"Didn't know you smoked," Mello commented quietly, sitting down in the swing.

"I don't. But I see no better time to start," the redhead said bitterly, promptly lighting one in his mouth and taking a long drag. He coughed a little at first, but then closed his eyes and relaxed against the house.

"You'll get cancer," Mello said matter-of-fact.

"So what?" He opened his eyes and looked around the porch. "Where are the Brady Bunch children?"

"Inside. Beatrice wanted to come see if you were okay, but I told her you probably wanted to be alone."

"Good. So why are you out here, then?" Matt said.

A flicker of hurt clouded the blond's eyes. "I just...are you okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concern. "You seem upset."

"_This_ is why I didn't want my family over. All they do is argue with each other. It's sickening." Matt shook his head and took another puff of the cigarette.

"Your cousin seems nice," Mello commented.

"A rare flower in a garden full of weeds," Matt replied dryly.

"Didn't know you were a poet," Mello grinned.

"I'm not."

Mello suddenly stood up and yanked the cigarette from Matt's hands, tossing it on the ground and putting it out. "Look, your family hates each other. I get that. But what are you proving if you let all of that get to you? You said yourself you don't care what people think, so don't get upset about it. Just be yourself and if they don't like it, that's their problem," Mello said.

The other boy stared at him for a minute, and then smiled slightly. "I guess you're right."

"No, you don't 'guess' I'm right. You _know _I'm right," Mello said, poking him in the forehead.

"Sure, sure," Matt pulled his hand away and leaned in close. "I guess we should go back inside," he sighed.

"Or, we could stay out here for a few more minutes..." Mello trailed off, placing his hand on the back of Matt's neck and pushing his face forward until their lips met. However, he immediately pulled back, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "You taste like cigarette smoke," he said.

"Hey!" Matt cried, grabbing the other boy as he attempted to wriggle away. "Take that back!"

"Haha, it's only true!" Mello said, as Matt wrapped his arms around him and prevented him any escape.

Before Matt could retort, they heard the screen door open, and they immediately broke apart as Marc came outside, looking thoroughly exhausted. "Come inside, please," he said, turning around and going back into the house.

The two boys exchanged a quick glance, before following him inside, Matt's heart beating faster with the prospect of whatever was awaiting them inside. However, when they arrived in the living room with Marc, everyone was sitting quietly around on the sofas. Matt wasn't sure if this was a good sign or not.

"I hope you'll forgive that little dispute," Marc said to Mello, as the two boys took their seats.

Lucille was sitting rather stiffly in her chair, a wine glass in her hand. "Marc, s'il te plaît." She sighed heavily and put a hand to her head. "I think it's about time for us to leave," she added, looking to her husband.

"Yes." He nodded and stood up, turning to face Marc. "Thank you for dinner. Please forgive Lucille, she hasn't been feeling well since -" he stopped and cleared his throat. "Anyhow, good day."

"Yes, the same to you," Marc nodded.

Beatrice and Nathanial stood up to follow their mother, with Beatrice stopping in front of Mello as they headed out the doorway. "I hope you'll forgive my Maman," she said softly. "She doesn't mean what she says, really."

"It's no problem," Mello replied, his eyes not meeting hers. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye." She turned to Matt, her eyes apologetic. "Goodbye."

"Bye." He held up his hand in a small wave, and Lucille poked her head back in the room a second later.

"Beatrice, come now," she said sharply.

"Coming, Maman," she said, and quickly disappeared from the room.

When they heard the door close, the two boys sat silently on the couch for a few minutes, as Marc went about the living room and kitchen, picking things up. It wasn't until about ten minutes later that Matt ventured to say anything. "Um...Marc? What was the argument about?"

"Wha?" Marc turned around as though just noticing their presence. When he saw they were there, he simply smiled like his usual self. "Nothing you two need to worry about. Just old family stuff."

Matt was curious about what family stuff it was, but he wasn't the type to press things, so he simply let the matter drop.

"Anyway," Marc said, trying to appear cheerful, "you two just go upstairs and don't worry about it, okay?" He turned towards the kitchen. "I'll be washing the dishes."

To Matt's surprise, Mello stood up and made to follow. "I'll help, if you want," he said.

Marc's expression mimicked Matt's for a moment, however he then smiled. "Sure, that's very nice of you to ask." He turned to Matt. "Would you like to?"

"I'm not one for housework," he said, standing up and faking a smile. "I'll be up in my room."

"Suit yourself," his uncle said, as they went in separate directions. As Marc and Mello headed towards the kitchen, Matt stayed where he was for a moment, watching after them. He wondered why Mello was so eager to help with cleaning up the kitchen all of a sudden. Was he wanting to talk to Marc alone about something? _Shit, he's probably going to run his mouth about us..._ Matt could feel a sudden stab of panic in his chest as this thought ran through his mind. Mello wouldn't, surely... For a few minutes, Matt listened out in the hallway, straining his ears to pick up on the conversation. For some reason, Mello had chosen to speak in German. It was true that Matt didn't know it perfectly, but he could still understand the conversation, so it was pointless for Mello to use that if he was wanting to talk to Marc about something personal. Then again, the other boy only knew two languages; maybe he figured German was his best option for not being completely understood if the redhead was listening. Once again, Matt's head began to hurt from too much contemplating, and he finally headed up to his room.

XxX

Mello wasn't quite sure why he had decided to follow the man into the kitchen. He knew Matt would be furious with him if he so much as breathed a word of their relationship, so it wasn't as if he could talk to him about it. Though for some reason, he'd felt compelled to follow.

For a few minutes, they wordlessly cleaned the dishes, Mello too nervous to really say anything, for fear that if he did start talking he might end up spilling something about his and Matt's relationship. He discreetly bit his tongue to keep from uttering a word, a heavy weight tugging at his heart the entire time.

"I hope you'll forgive my family," Marc sighed, taking another dish out of the sink. "They are always quite unreasonable."

"Oh, it's alright," Mello assured him with a smile. "Believe me, mine isn't much better – though you could probably already guess that."

"I'm sorry you had to hear all of that. Lucille should have held her tongue with a guest here." Marc shook his head.

"It's no big deal, really. Families fight." Mello gave a nonchalant shrug.

"But they shouldn't fight like that." He gave another deep sigh. "It's one thing when she starts in on me, but then she has to go and run her mouth about Matt and his parents." He scrubbed the next plate particularly viciously before handing it to Mello.

"What does she have against Matt?" Mello asked curiously.

"Oh, always talking about how he's hardly had any girlfriends, and never brings anyone home... It's like she expects him to get married within the next year, or something!"

Mello could feel a small lump form in the back of his throat as he distractedly rinsed off the next plate. "So, how many girlfriends _has _he had, exactly?" he asked, trying to sound uninterested.

"One, in the eighth grade, and none since as far as I know. And even when he did, he never brought her around or anything." He then looked at Mello. "Is he seeing a girl now?" he asked anxiously.

"No, no." Mello said, a little too quickly. "At least, as far as I know he isn't," he added, shrugging slightly.

Marc was quiet for a while, and Mello was slightly worried about what he might be contemplating. However, he then said, "You're the only person Matt has ever brought home. I'll admit, at first I thought you were a girl the way he talked about you." A small smile curled at the corners of Marc's mouth, and Mello blushed.

"You mean...Matt's never brought friends over before?" Mello asked.

"No, never. I was beginning to get a little worried. When he came here, he kept himself so cut off from everyone. He claims to have friends, but I never hear about any of them except you, so I don't really know what to think," Marc replied. "Does he have friends?" he asked, turning to Mello.

The blond shrugged. "I dunno. He doesn't seem like much of a social person to me."

"Yeah, I suppose. But you'd think that surely, he'd have other people that he likes. He just acts like he hates everyone here."

"He just doesn't like getting close to people," Mello replied. "It's a matter of intelligence, but also -" he stopped, immediately realizing what he was about to say.

"Also what?" Marc prompted.

Mello shrugged, and quickly busied himself with putting a few dishes away in the cabinet. "I dunno, he just doesn't like getting close to other people."

Another period of silence rested between them before Marc spoke again. "What about you, then? He got close to you, why?"

A small blush crept up into Mello's cheeks. "I dunno, we just got along well I suppose. It surprised me as well."

"But you two are so different, that's the thing." Marc gave an amused smile and shook his head. "Matt's like a social moth, and you – you're about the complete opposite."

"You know what they say, opposites attract," Mello replied with a smile, and the blush only turned a deeper shade of pink as he realized what he'd said again. Hopefully Marc wouldn't take it the wrong way.

However the man beside him gave a low chuckle. "I suppose you're right." He paused. "So what about you? Do you have many friends back home?"

"Not really," Mello replied. "Just Emil. A few of the other boys and I get along, but no one I'm particularly close to."

"Hm." Marc pondered this thought for a minute. "I figured someone like you would have a lot of friends. I mean, don't take it personally or anything. I just figured -"

"I know," Mello said, smiling to assure that he hadn't taken offense. He shrugged. "I've never really been interested in getting close to people either. I mean, it's not that people dislike me or anything. They just...like the person they see at school. They don't know the real me, so I can't really say that they're my friend," Mello explained.

"That's understandable. There's no point in having friends that don't know who you really are, is there?"

"Exactly."

Marc was silent again, as though brooding over something. "Tell me, Mello..." he began at last. "Matt talks to you, right?"

"Well, yeah...I suppose." Mello glanced up at him. "Why?"

The man beside him gave a long sigh. "I'm just worried..."

"About what, exactly?"

"I think there's something going on that he won't tell me. I mean, he never tells me anything so I can never know. But I figure if you two are close enough that he'll actually invite you over, you must know a good deal about him. I mean, is there anything that's bothering him, or he isn't telling me...?" Marc trailed off.

Mello had to bite his tongue again simply to keep his mouth shut from the explanation he was dying to give. It wasn't fair that he couldn't talk to Marc about this, just because Matt didn't want him to know. "Well, I don't really know what he's told you, so I wouldn't know what to tell you if he had," the blond said at last, very slowly to make sure he didn't say the wrong thing. One reason he was talking in German, so he could be absolutely sure that he knew exactly what he was saying at all times.

"He never talks to me about anything," Marc explained with an exasperated sigh. "That's why I worry; I never know what's going on."

"Well, I think if it was anything he wanted you to know, or thought you needed to know, he would tell you," Mello replied, unable to meet Marc's eyes.

"He should know me enough to know that he can come to me with anything; I'm not going to kick him out or anything if it's something he thinks he did wrong. Whatever it is, I won't care."

"Maybe he just..." Mello thought carefully, trying to pick the right words to say. "Maybe he just feels like you would look at him a different way if he told you everything."

"I wouldn't look at him any differently," Marc replied forcefully. "He knows I am a very liberal person. I'm not saying he should tell me everything, I just wish he wouldn't keep his life such a secret sometimes," he sighed.

"Maybe he just doesn't think it's important enough to tell you."

"It?" Marc said immediately, his eyes snapping to Mello. "There's something? What is it?"

_Damn._ "I just meant _if_ there was something," Mello said quickly, still unable to look Marc directly in the eye. "It was a generic term, I didn't mean that there was something."

"But there is. I can tell." He rolled his eyes. "I work with kids who lie every day, Mello. Don't get me wrong, some of them are pretty damn good at it, but you wouldn't be able to if your life depended on it. Now what is it?"

"_If_there was something," Mello replied, "it wouldn't be my place to tell you. It's something you should talk to him about."

"How will I know what to talk to him about if I don't know what it is?"

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it with you."

"It? What is _it_?" Marc demanded. "If there's something he isn't telling me, I want to know."

"I didn't say there was anything," Mello protested. "And besides, it would be something for him to tell you."

"He told you not to tell me, didn't he?" Marc guessed, turning back to the dishes with a sigh.

Mello was silent.

"Look, don't feel like you're betraying him or something by telling me. I won't discuss it with him unless necessary. But I get the feeling it's something bothering you, too," Marc said.

Mello nearly dropped the dish he was holding. "Wh-why would you say that?"

Marc shrugged. "Just guessing."

"It's not _bothering_ me," Mello muttered bitterly.

"But it's bothering him?"

"Gods, I already said that I didn't say there was anything," the blond replied.

"Mello, you keep contradicting yourself."

"You keep trying to do that damn reverse psychology."

"And it's working quite well, don't you think?" Marc grinned.

Mello gave a heavy sigh and set the plate he was rinsing on the counter. "Matt's very secretive about things. If it was something I thought you needed to know, I would tell you."

"Why doesn't he want me to know?" Marc questioned.

"He just...doesn't know how you'd react," Mello replied.

Surprisingly, Marc was quiet. The blond knew better than to be relieved; quiet meant he was thinking about something. "Does it have something to do with what Lucille was saying?" he asked quietly.

"I wasn't there for the whole dinner, I'm not sure of everything she said," Mello responded softly, picking the dish back up and holding it under the faucet again.

Marc gave a long, deep sigh and rested his hands on the rim of the sink. He was quiet for a long time, and Mello nervously glanced his way every few seconds. Then, he said, very quietly, "Is there something-" he began, and then stopped, as though he had decided against asking. Instead, he focused his attention on the plate he was holding, scrubbing it a little harder than necessary. "It's just sometimes I think there might be a reason Matt never brings girls home."

A loud shatter rang throughout the room as the plate Mello was holding slipped out of his hands and landed on the floor, breaking into shards of tiny pieces. The blond immediately took a step back, fear flooding his body like an electric surge. "I-I'm sorry!" he said quickly, immediately bending over to pick up the scattered ruins of the plate.

However, Marc took his wrist gently and stopped him. "It's fine," he said gently. "Don't worry about it." He then proceeded with picking up the broken shards himself, while Mello stood shaking in front of him. "I'm not going to hit you or anything, you know," he said. "If that's why you're shaking."

Though Mello tried to tell himself that that hadn't been the reason, he could feel a deep wave of relief wash over him as Marc said this. "I-I know," he said, though he couldn't take his gaze off the floor.

"I'm sorry if that sounded blunt," Marc apologized. "I can tell a lot of things just by observing reactions, so forgive me if I make assumptions a lot of the time."

"No, no – i-it's fine," Mello said quickly. He suddenly felt sick, though whether it was because of the plate or what Marc had just asked him, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, your hand," Marc said suddenly, as he noticed the blond's right hand, which was indeed marked by a deep red cut, the red substance slowly dripping to the floor.

"I must have cut it on the glass," Mello said quickly, covering the cut and turning towards the doorway before Marc could say anything else. "I'll take care of it, don't worry about it." He sprinted up the stairs before the man could say another word, and headed towards the bathroom.

XxX

When Matt heard the bathroom door down the hall slam closed, he immediately opened his own and walked down the hallway.

He could hear clattering around inside, and knocked on the door. Upon receiving no answer, he simply turned the knob and walked in to find Mello rummaging through the medicine cabinet. He took a bandage roll out of a box and began to wrap it around his right hand, which Matt just now noticed was bleeding. It took Matt a few more seconds to realize the other boy was crying.

"Hey, are you okay?" Matt asked, walking over to Mello and surveying the damage that had been done to his hand, and the mess of bandages and antiseptic in the sink.

"Fine," the other boy said briskly, not meeting Matt's eyes as he tied off the bandage and began to put things back in the cabinet.

"You're crying-" Matt laid a hand on his shoulder, but Mello angrily slapped it away.

"Mello..." Matt pleaded softly. "What's wrong?"

No reply.

Then Matt remembered Mello had been talking to Marc. "My uncle- what did the two of you talk about?" he demanded, a little harsher than he probably should have.

"Nothing," Mello replied softly.

"Did he ask about us!"

Mello gave a long, deep sigh, but no reply, his eyes not meeting Matt's.

"Dammit, did you tell him!"

This time, Mello's eyes snapped up to glare at the redhead in front of him. "No, don't worry," he said harshly. "I didn't tell him." He pushed past Matt and headed towards the doorway. "But he isn't stupid, Matt. He'll figure it out!" And he promptly stalked out of the bathroom and walked down the hallway.

"Wha- Mello, what the hell!" he darted out of the room after the blond, but didn't reach the bedroom in time to slip in before Mello slammed and locked the door behind him. "Hey! Open the door! What's the matter with you!" Matt demanded angrily, hitting his fist against the door.

"Go away!" the blond's muffled voice could be heard through the door.

Giving a long, heavy sigh, Matt turned and sprinted down the staircase, arriving out-of-breath in the doorway of the kitchen as his uncle finished putting the last of the dishes in the cabinet. Marc looked up at him when he entered, his eyebrow raising slightly. "Something the matter?" he asked.

"What did you and Mello talk about!" Matt demanded, his eyes ablaze with panic.

"Nothing important, why?" Marc shrugged. "Did he tell you something we talked about?"

Matt rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Don't play dumb. Why is he upset?"

"He's upset? I wasn't aware. Is there something particular you think we talked about?" Marc replied.

Matt stared straight at his uncle, tears threatening to form in his eyes and his voice catching in his throat. "Nothing, forget it." He sharply turned around and started to walk off.

"Maybe he's tired of keeping secrets for you," Marc said quietly, and Matt froze in his tracks, spinning back around and staring wide-eyed at him as he sat down calmly at the table and sipped from his coffee glass.

"What are you talking about? What did he say?" Matt asked anxiously, his heart skipping a beat.

"He didn't say anything, I'm assuming, because you asked him not to." He set his glass down and fixed Matt with a steady gaze. "Whatever it is, Matt, I won't think any differently of you. You can know that."

"Who says there's anything anyway?" Matt demanded.

"The way you're acting suggests there is something you don't want him to tell me. And his reaction to it suggests that he's tired of keeping the secret for you." Marc gave a nonchalant shrug. "I do work with kids who keep secrets every day, you know. I'm not as naïve as you think I am. Just keep that in mind."

"I never said you were naïve," Matt grumbled.

"You can talk to me about anything, you know. Don't be afraid of what you think my reaction might be." His gaze hardened slightly. "But don't force him to lie about something, just because you don't want me to know, understand?"

Unable to meet his uncle's eyes, Matt simply looked down to the floor. "Oui."

"If there's something the two of you aren't telling me, I'd like to know about it." His gaze traveled back down to his empty glass.

"What do you think we're not telling you exactly?" Matt snapped.

"You really want me to answer that?" Marc asked quietly, and Matt stiffened. "Matt, I don't care what it is. I really don't. But I don't like the thought that you think there's something you can't tell me."

"I don't have to tell you every part of my life, you know," Matt replied harshly.

"I know," Marc sighed, and then was quiet for a moment. Matt knew this only meant he was thinking over something. "Just don't force him to keep your secrets," he said at last, standing up from the table and setting his glass in the sink.

"He has secrets of his own, you know. I'm sure he hasn't told you everything," Matt said bitterly. "So don't think I'm the only one in the house keeping something from you."

Marc turned and stared hard at Matt, leaning in very close to where the redhead was suddenly trembling under his gaze. "Listen. One, you don't know what he has told me. Two, you are my nephew, and I am entitled to know some of these things, whereas I am not Mello's guardian and it's none of my business what goes on in his life unless he wants to tell me of his own accord."

"Yeah? Well my life isn't any of your business, either!" Matt said. "You aren't my dad!" He said before he could stop himself, and turned and sprinted up the stairs. It wasn't until he reached the top of the staircase he realized he was crying. Hastily wiping his eyes, he walked down to his door and stopped, after hearing nothing on the other side. Slowly, he raised a hand and knocked softly.

"What!" came Mello's voice from the other side.

Giving a heavy sigh, Matt slid down in front of the door and leaned against the wall. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I'll tell him. _Sometime_. But not now. Now just isn't the right time."

"I think it's the perfect time," Mello replied. "Besides, you'll just keep putting it off." He was silent for a few minutes. "I don't get it," he said at last, very softly. "Why don't you want to tell him? You know he wouldn't care, or think anything of it. Why are you so afraid to tell him?"

"Honestly, Mello?" Matt said, wiping more tears from his eyes and hugging his knees to his chest. "I don't know. I have no idea why I can't tell him. I just...can't." He bit his lower lip and said in a trembling voice, "Just please give me time, okay? I will tell him, I promise. Just not now. Please, just – just give me time to think it over."

There was silence on the other side of the door, before Matt finally heard a lock clicking and the door swung open. He immediately stood up and came face to face with Mello, who was no longer crying, though he definitely looked morose. "You really mean it? You won't put it off. You'll tell him – by the end of the summer, or I'll do it." The last sentence wasn't a question, but a statement.

Matt nodded, fresh tears springing into his eyes. "I promise."

Mello seemed to believe him, for the next moment he wrapped his arms around the other boy and pulled him close as Matt began to sob into his shoulder.

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 6-<p> 


	7. It's Just the Way Things Are

**I apologise for the lateness of this chapter, my internet refused to work and I didn't feel like making it :D But now I have new internet so yey~ Hopefully the timespan between updates won't be a millenium now.**

* * *

><p>Kapitel 07<br>**Chapter 7**

So ist das nun einmal  
>"<strong>It's Just the Way Things Are"<br>**_Ce sont des choses qui arrivent_

* * *

><p>Matt's uncle wasn't downstairs when the two boys went down for breakfast the next morning. There was already food sitting out, but it was clear that Marc had fixed his own plate and taken it up to his study with him. He'd been in the room all morning, and Matt felt a heavy guilt weighing him down the whole day, knowing that it was his fault. He hadn't meant to say those things, but he had just been so angry that he hadn't thought beforehand. How could he have even said something so cruel, knowing Marc was only trying to help? The fact that he had only said it so he could run away and escape more interrogation only made him feel worse. He was so selfish that he would risk Mello and Marc's feelings just to protect his own. He was far past despising himself.<p>

Mello did his best to cheer Matt up, as the blond was in his usual happy mood, with all events from the night before apparently forgotten. Matt was grateful for this, as he seriously needed the other boy to be on his side right now. Of course, Mello did agree that it was Matt's own fault for being selfish and upsetting his uncle. He urged Matt to go and apologize, but for some reason the redhead couldn't face his uncle; whether it was because Marc had all but said, "I know you're gay", or because of what Matt had said to him and the hurt look in his eyes at that moment, he didn't quite know. He just knew he couldn't see Marc. Mimicking his uncle's attitude for the day, he hardly came down from his room at all; he laid in bed reading, Mello going in and out between his room and the kitchen, bringing Matt food when he asked for it, but mostly just getting snacks for himself. He claimed he'd never seen Matt so depressed, and the redhead kind of wanted to agree with him at this point.

"It _is_ your fault you know," Mello reminded Matt for the fiftieth time that day, as they both sat in the bed -or rather, Matt laying in bed and Mello sitting cross-legged on top of the covers beside him-, with Mello eating chips from a now-only-crumb-filled bag that had been full just minutes ago, and Matt flipping through a book, not really reading what it was saying.

"I know," Matt sighed. "I just...can't talk to him." He gave a particularly vicious turn to one of the pages, nearly ripping it from the book.

"You're unbelievable sometimes, you know that?" Mello fixed his attention on the chip bag as he searched for more crumbs at the bottom. "I mean, at least you have someone you _can_ talk to. You don't know how lucky you are, and yet you just take everything for granted." He shook his head. "I mean, I'd think that after your parents died you would start to appreciate what you have. I guess I was wrong."

"Hey! Don't bring my parents into this!" Matt said angrily. "That has nothing to do with it." He glared up at the blond from the top of the book.

"Sorry," Mello said, though Matt could tell he was being sarcastic. "But it is true. You're lucky to have him, and you refuse to talk to him – about anything. You just isolate yourself from anyone who might care about you. You would stand up and tell a whole cabin full of boys you were gay, but yet you're too much of a coward to admit to your own uncle -who _wouldn't care_."

"Look, I said I would tell him, okay? Sometime, but not now. Can we please not have this discussion again?" Matt gave an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. But I think you should at least talk to him and apologize. He's the only family you have that is ever going to give a rat's ass about what happens to you, so you better start damn kissing the ground he walks on, because you won't have anyone once he's gone, and you know it," Mello replied. "And besides, he knows. He just doesn't come right out and say it."

"He knows because you completely ratted us out," Matt replied stiffly.

"I did not _rat us out_," the other boy replied, glaring slightly. "He was the one who asked me, and I never admitted anything."

"No," Matt said, rolling his eyes. "You just dropped a plate and acted like an idiot. No, that didn't tell him anything."

"You can't force me to keep this a secret. If I want to tell him, I have every right to do so."

"I won't see you anymore," Matt said vacantly, staring up at the ceiling.

"That's a load of shit, and you know it," Mello retorted.

"Look, it's _my_ life, and _my _uncle, alright? I'll tell him when I want, and now isn't the time."

"Fine, fine. I already said FINE. Just at least get off your ass, and go in there and talk to him." Mello gave a vicious stab towards the doorway.

"I told you, I just can't see him right now. He probably doesn't want to see me, anyway," Matt responded.

"You know he does, Matt. He knows you didn't mean what you said last night, but it still hurt him. The least you can do is apologise for it, and end of discussion."

"Just mind your own damn business for once, would you?" Matt retorted.

"Matt," Mello said steadily. "This _is_ my business. I'm living here with you for the summer, we are together, I happen to like your uncle and don't like lying to him, and you're forcing me to keep a secret I don't want to keep. It _is_ my business, and I have every right to intervene!"

"Fine!" Matt said, tossing the book down and jumping out of bed. "TELL HIM IF IT'LL MAKE YOU SO FUCKING HAPPY! I DON'T GIVE A FUCK ANYMORE!" He stalked to the doorway and threw open the door, slamming it loudly behind him as he disappeared into the hallway. Mello could hear his angry footsteps stomping down the stairs, and gave a sigh. Didn't Matt realize all Mello wanted was to make _him_ happy?

XxX

When Matt entered Marc's study later that day, the older man was sitting at his desk looking through case files, occasionally scribbling down notes. He gave only a swift glance as he heard the door open, but looked up again when he noticed it was Matt.

"Ah, Matt...Do you need something?"

Matt could feel his stomach knotting, and he nervously twisted his hands. "Can I uh, sit down?"

"Why of course," Marc replied calmly, gesturing to the seats in front of his desk. He turned his gaze back to his work, as Matt took a seat in front of him. The redhead continued twisting his hands in his lap, not sure of how to begin.

"Listen, Marc... about what I said yesterday... I'm sorry," he said softly, his eyes fixed on the floor.

His uncle looked up at him, slightly surprised, but then gave a soft smile. "Don't worry about it," Marc said gently. "We all say things we don't mean when we're angry." With his tone, one wouldn't think he'd been bothered at all.

"Mello was right, though."

"Right? About what?" Marc asked nonchalantly.

"About me just taking it for granted that you're here. I know I'm lucky to have you, and I don't treat you right. I'm sorry," he admitted. He was never good at apologizing to people, much less adults, and very much less Marc.

Marc smiled. "Thank you for that, Matt, but you don't have to tell me. I know that you don't mean a lot of what you say or do. You've been through a hard time with your parents, and you keep things so bottled up. It's natural for you to get angry sometimes."

"Maybe," Matt said quietly.

"I'm glad you found at least someone, though," Marc said, and Matt knew he meant Mello. "I was starting to think you'd never bring any friends home."

Matt shrugged. "I'm just not a really social person. You know that."

"Matt, there's a big difference between not being social, and completely cutting yourself off from everyone. I figured you would've at least dated someone by now."

Although the sentence was perfectly natural, Matt noted the fact that his uncle had purposely said 'dated someone' and not 'had a girlfriend'.

"There's no one I want to date," Matt said, and he was even more grateful that Mello wasn't in the room to hear that. Though, knowing the blond, he was probably sitting outside the door listening to every word. Which is why Matt was purposely talking in French, just to annoy him if he was out there.

Marc, to Matt's surprise, didn't seem phased by this. Matt had expected him to say something like, 'oh, there has to be _someone_', or 'are you sure?'. But he didn't, and it puzzled Matt. Maybe his uncle was just trying to confuse him more.

* * *

><p>One Week Later<p>

* * *

><p>Mello had barely spoken to him the entire week, but Matt didn't really blame him. He was even angry with himself. The blond even went so far as to sleep in another room, though Matt thought that was a little unnecessary. However, he did miss the blond's warm body next to him at night. He tried to talk to Mello plenty of times throughout the week, but the blond refused.<p>

That morning, Matt found Mello sitting outside on the front porch, in the swing hanging from the porch roof. It was a sunny day, with a little wind; wind chimes could be heard playing close by. However Mello, who normally would be rejoicing the nice weather, was sitting morosely in the swing, hugging his knees to his chest. He didn't even look up when Matt came outside, and continued staring at the ground when the redhead sat next to him in the swing.

Heaving a sigh, Matt looked over at the blond. "Look, I don't know what you're mad at me for. I didn't do anything."

"One, I never said I was mad at you," Mello replied tonelessly. "Two, it's what you didn't do."

"One," Matt repeated forcefully, "you've been acting mad lately, so don't try and lie to me and say you aren't. And two, how many times do we have to have the discussion about my uncle?"

"It's not just your uncle," Mello said. "I-I feel like I don't even know you, like you're completely different from the person you were at camp."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You told me last year that you had never lied about being gay, but clearly from what I've seen you lie about it all the time. So why would you tell me that? Did you just want to act like you were better than me? You stood up last year and told everyone at camp you liked boys. You made out to be this indifferent, un-caring person. And now you're refusing to tell the one person who wouldn't care. Were you just faking last year, is that it? Everything you told me was just a lie?" He turned and looked directly in Matt's eyes, and the redhead couldn't help but look away.

"Of course it wasn't a lie," Matt replied. "I really didn't care what those boys thought about it, or what anyone else does."

"Anyone except your uncle."

"So what?"

"Your uncle wouldn't care, Matt! Why can't I get that across to you?" Mello cried irritably. "We've had this discussion about twenty times already, but that's the one thing you don't seem to understand!"

"I know he wouldn't," Matt responded, looking down at the concrete ground of the front porch. "I just..."

"You just what! You keep telling me you 'can't tell him' but you won't give me a straight answer as to why!"

"Why do you want him to know so badly, anyway? It wouldn't make a difference either way, so why bother?"

"Because-!" Mello stopped in mid-sentence to control his voice. "Because...he's the only person who has ever felt like a parent to me. And I hate keeping this from him, because – he cares about you. He tells me how much he does, and how he worries about you. I think if you told him the truth, it might prevent more worrying from the both of you."

"Less worrying?" Matt made what could be interpreted as a laugh in the back of his throat. "Right."

"I can't force you to tell him, I know. But there really isn't any point in lying to him anymore. He isn't stupid, you know."

"Yeah, 'cause you ratted us out," Matt reminded him.

"I did not rat us out," Mello sighed. "He knew before that, he could tell."

"So if he already knows, why bother telling him?"

"Because I know he'd rather here it from you, than from what Lucille guesses. The fact that she could tell right off the bat, and he didn't even know probably really upset him, Matt."

"The only reason Lucille guessed is because she's a critical, eccentric, bi-"

"I know," Mello interrupted. "But she still guessed it, when Marc had no idea. How would you feel if you found out something like that about me, from someone else who barely knew me? And that I hadn't told you, when you're one of the people closest to me?"

Matt was silent for a minute, shifting uncomfortably. "...I guess I see your point," he said eventually.

"And, besides, I feel like I can barely be within three feet of you if Marc is in the room, because you're so uptight about him knowing."

"You mean you'd actually want to parade ourselves around in front of him like that?" Matt raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not saying we should parade. But it'd be nice not to feel like I have to act one way when we're alone, and another when Marc is in the room."

"Elaborate."

"Like that morning in the kitchen," Mello dead-panned, and Matt shifted again.

"You were just doing that to piss me off."

"I was doing it to prove a point."

"And what was that point?" Matt asked.

"That you don't want me so much as touching you when Marc is in the room."

"So what? He's my uncle. He doesn't want to see that, and I don't want him to. It's called 'subtlety', Mello."

"Is it any different than a heterosexual couple fondling each other all the time, like they do at school? Is it different just because we're boys? If I were a girl, would you feel different?" Mello quizzed.

"I don't know," Matt said truthfully. "Maybe. Like it or not Mello, things _are_ different for us. I'm not saying it's fair, but it's just the way things are."

"Don't say that!" Mello cried, angrily, standing up from the swing with such force that Matt was nearly unbalanced. "Don't say it like that's how things are supposed to be! Are you saying we should just lie back and act like everyone wants us to!"

"It'd be easier," Matt replied.

"Since when is anything in life easy? No matter which road you take, it'll be hard." Mello's expression softened slightly. "But how is anyone supposed to get anywhere in life if they don't fight back?"

"I'm tired of fighting. I went through all of that, all the time, back in France. One of the things I liked about moving here was I'd get a new start. People wouldn't just know me as 'the gay kid' anymore. I could actually start out fresh."

"People don't know you at all, Matt," Mello informed him. "You said yourself you hate everyone here. And you're too scared to get close to anyone because you think they'll reject you the moment they find out you like guys."

"Maybe that's because I used to have friends back in France, Mello. Not tons of friends, no. But I had them! But then, as soon they find out I'm gay, I suddenly have none!" Matt could hear his voice shaking, and quickly looked away from the other boy.

"Maybe people here are different -" Mello began.

"And maybe," Matt replied, standing up and staring straight at Mello, "I'm just tired of getting beat up." Without another word, he strode past the blond and went back inside, slamming the screen door behind him.

XxX

Matt knew he'd only made the tension between he and Mello worse by arguing. At this point, however, he didn't really care. He wasn't obligated to explain everything to Mello, about why he was the way he was. Matt barely understood himself, let alone enough to explain it to someone else. He sulked in his room the entire afternoon, listening to blaring French music. His uncle had long since been at work, otherwise he would've already yelled at him to turn it down.

In all honesty, Matt hated fighting with Mello. More than anything. As he thought in depth, which was something he usually never did, he suddenly felt compelled to do something he had never done since dating Alex.

He picked up a pen and paper and wrote poetry.

_J'ai fait__ un rêve_

_Deux personnes seules_

_dans l'obscurité interminable_

_Toi et moi_

_Nous __marchâmes_

_«__Le souci est une chose qui n'existe pas__,» dit-je_

_Mais il continua__it tout simplement__ en silence_

_Et il versa__it__ une traînée des larmes_

_Te l__aisser derrière moi comme ça_

_O__ù irais-je__ sans toi?_

_Nous __nous sommes rencontrés__ par chance une deuxième fois_

_Dès ça__, nous __sommes toujours ensemble_

_Je __m'inquiète trop_

_J'a__ppellerai ton nom __sans fin_

Mello came in just as he finished the last line, and sat down beside him, looking curiously at the paper. "What're you writing?" he asked.

Giving a sigh, Matt handed the paper to him; it couldn't hurt since he didn't know French. Sure enough, Mello took one look at the paper and thrust it back at Matt. "I can't read it."

"It's poetry," Matt said, staring vacantly out the window.

"I thought you said you weren't a poet," Mello grinned.

"I lied." Matt gave another sigh and picked at his fingernails. "I used to write poetry a lot, back in middle school."

By middle school, he obviously meant 'eighth grade', and Mello knew this. Mello also wondered if the 'girlfriend' Marc had mentioned had actually been Alex.

"You mean back when you were dating Alex?" Mello blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Yes," Matt replied, surprisingly, without hesitation.

Mello was silent. It was obvious he was surprised by Matt's willingness to admit it.

"What's this thing say, anyway?" Mello asked irritably.

"Nothing important." Matt shrugged.

"Why'd you have to write it in French?" he grumbled.

"Maybe so _you_ wouldn't read it," Matt replied.

He could tell this bothered the blond, for his brow furrowed and he turned haughtily towards the window. "I bet _Alex_ read them," he grumbled.

"So what? It doesn't mean I want _you_ to," Matt said.

"Why are you being so mean?" Mello said, his voice hurt.

"Why are you being so possessive?" Matt snapped back.

Mello stood up from the window seat and stalked over to the door. "You know, I'm sick and tired of walking on eggshells around you just so you won't have one of your mood swings. If you're going to be such a prick, I just won't talk to you." He sighed. "I'm going to take a shower."

As the door closed behind the blond, Matt sighed heavily and leaned his head against the wall. What was wrong with him lately, anyway? He blamed it on stress. Still, he didn't have to be so unfair.

When he heard the shower down the hall running, he suddenly got an idea. Jumping up from his seat, he skipped out into the hall and headed downstairs.

XxX

"When can I open my eyes?" Mello complained, as Matt led him into another room. The blond's hair was still wet, and he was only wearing a loose T-shirt, boxers, and bathrobe.

"In a minute," Matt replied, as they took a few more steps. Taking a deep breath, Matt removed his hands from the other boy's eyes. "You can open now."

Mello opened his eyes, took one look around the room, and whipped back around to face Matt, his mouth open in disbelief. "You did all this?" he whispered in amazement.

Matt smiled. "Yep."

The living room lights had been dimmed slightly, and the table in front of the couch had been set with food, along with two glasses of wine and candles. The fireplace was even lit, casting a romantic glow over the room.

"Wow..." Mello was speechless as he walked over and surveyed the entire décor. "Why?" he said at last.

Walking over to the other boy, Matt wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. "I've been horrible lately, and you haven't even done anything. I'm sorry," he apologized.

"So you make up for it with a candlelit dinner?" Mello said, raising an eyebrow. "I didn't know you were the romantic."

"I can be when I want," Matt said, giving a nonchalant shrug.

Grinning, Mello threw his arms around Matt's neck. "I love it!" he said, pulling back and kissing Matt lightly on the cheek. "Merci beaucoup." He paused. "That is right, isn't it?"

Matt laughed. "Yeah, that's right. Et de rien."

"...what?"

"Never mind." Matt simply shook his head, and led the other boy over to the floor in front of the couch.

XxX

Fifteen minutes later, both plates were clean. Mello gave a satisfied sigh, leaned back against the couch, and closed his eyes. "I swear, Matt, you are the best cook I've ever met."

Matt gave a satisfied smile. "Glad you liked it."

"But shouldn't the more girlish one in the relationship be the cook?" Mello mused.

"Oh come on," Matt said. "You can't have _all_ the feminine qualities."

"Says who?" Mello said softly, leaning in so close to Matt's face that the other boy could feel the blond's breath on his face.

Without replying, Matt leaned forward and pressed his lips hard against the other boy's. Mello let out a surprised squeak, but allowed Matt to push him down to the floor as their tongues began the all-too-familiar battle. How long had it been since they'd last kissed, or even touched each other for that matter? Matt had forgotten the electric surge that seemed to pulse through him at Mello's touch, or was that something new?

He could feel Mello's hand tugging at his waist band, and he gave an inward laugh. It was too easy to get Mello un-angry with him. Ignoring the boy's advances for a moment, Matt deepened the kiss and found his hand gripping a handful of the blond's soft hair. Had he really forgotten how warm and satisfying the other boy's mouth was? Why had they been angry at each other again?

In the second that their mouths parted for air, Mello pulled Matt close and pressed his lips against the redhead's ear. "I love you," he whispered, and next second Matt could feel his belt come off. He hadn't even noticed Mello had been undoing it.

However, Matt didn't stop the blond this time. He allowed Mello's hands to travel up his back and slip his shirt off, allowed him to yank on his pants until they came off. It somehow felt right to Matt, this moment, and frankly he was sick of hesitating. What better time could he have chosen, anyway? He could feel himself growing hotter at every touch, his breathing shortening with every caress.

To his surprise, however, Mello was the one who stopped, pushing Matt up to look into his face.

"What is it?" Matt asked, breathless.

"You aren't stopping me this time," Mello said, puzzled.

"Maybe I don't want you to stop," Matt replied softly, brushing his lips against the other boy's neck. He could feel Mello shiver beneath him.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Yup," Matt whispered.

Asking no more questions, Mello slipped his hands into Matt's boxers, proceeding with pulling them off as well. He certainly would have done so, had it not been for the ominous and startling sound of a car pulling up in the driveway.

"SHIT!" Matt immediately jumped off of the other boy and flew to the window, giving a loud groan when he saw his uncle's car in the driveway. "SHIT, SHIT, SHIT! What the hell, I thought he would be gone all night..." He grabbed his pants from the floor and immediately yanked them on, redoing his belt loosely before proceeding with cleaning up the dishes and wine from the table, putting them both in the kitchen sink. Mello watched the entire time, wordlessly, though he could tell the blond was beyond severely pissed.

Matt didn't have time to put his shirt back on, before the sound of a key in the lock reached his ears. He managed to toss it quickly under the couch just as his uncle walked into the room.

Marc looked from Matt, to Mello, and then back again, his eyebrow raised. "What're you up to?" he asked nonchalantly as he set his suitcase down, though they both could see the smile threatening to form.

"Nothing," Matt said quickly, his face slightly flushed. "Just uh, watching television."

"Well, the television is off right now," Marc said.

"W-we turned it off," Matt replied. "When we heard you come in."

"Why?" Marc replied, his voice amused as the smile they could see hidden began to form at the corners of his mouth. "Watching something you shouldn't be?"

Before Matt could reply, Mello sidled over and smirked sarcastically Matt's way. "Oh, yes. We just _love_ watching porn, don't we Matt?"

If Marc hadn't been in the room, Matt would've hit him. "Yeah, sure," he replied through his teeth. "Women on women is wonderful." He was silently grateful he'd thought of the last sentence. He could see Mello scowl his way. Thankfully, Marc didn't catch it.

"Anyway," his uncle said, brushing the entire conversation aside. "Do you remember that kid I was telling you about, Matt?" He looked up at his nephew, and Mello looked too, suddenly curious.

"Uh, yeah," Matt replied, suddenly recalling. "The druggie."

"Um, right." Marc smiled a little. "Anyway, as I'm sure you're aware, the center is quite full right now, and it's very hard to accommodate everyone. So..." he trailed off, and clapped his hands together. "Since I'm working his case anyway, and this house is fairly big, I decided it would be suitable for him to stay here for a while. Just until we found a family for him, you know?"

"Oh, wow. That's uh, really nice of you," Matt said, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He'd never expected his uncle to be _this_ nice, though.

"Yeah, Marc," Mello agreed, exchanging a surprised glance with Matt. "It is."

The man in front of them smiled. "I'm glad you think so. Anyway..." he turned towards the doorway. "Viens, s'il te plaît."

At his words, a blond-haired boy a little older than them stepped into the room, his eyes flickering from the ground back up to them as he walked over beside Marc. He was a little taller than Mello and Matt, with a thin, lean frame. He was carrying a suitcase, but didn't look like he'd brought much more than that. While the two boys stared, Marc introduced the boy.

"He's a couple years older than you two," Marc explained, "and Matt -his English isn't perfect, so it's convenient you speak French." Marc paused, and then ran a hand through his hair. "Anyway, why don't you two show him up to one of the guest rooms upstairs, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Mello replied instantly. "No problem."

"Alright, then. I'll see you three later then. I trust you two have already eaten." He looked towards Mello and Matt.

"Yeah, we have," Mello answered, smiling.

"Okay then." Marc returned the smile. "I'll see you tomorrow, as it's late and I'm sure you all want to sleep soon."

"Sure, goodnight," Mello once more was the one to reply.

"Goodnight," Marc said, giving a small wave as he headed out the doorway.

Mello -not knowing what to say, seeing as he didn't speak French- turned to Matt. "Well...?" he prompted.

But Matt wasn't listening. He was staring straight at the blond-haired boy, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide with what could only be interpreted as shock. The blond boy was staring at him, too, though in a different way. His eyes were still locked on the floor, a small blush in his cheeks now.

Before Mello could ask Matt why he was gaping at the new arrival, Matt's mouth opened and his lips barely formed a whisper of one word.

"...Alex?"

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 7-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Just a note, the poem <strong>**Matt**** wrote was taken from the Doujinshi "Call", so it isn't ****my**** original idea. ****I only translated (probably very badly) |D**


	8. Leave the Past Where It Is

Kapitel 08  
><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Lassen die Vergangenheit wo sie ist  
>"<strong>Leave the Past Where it is"<br>**_Laissons le passé où il est_

* * *

><p><em>Alex.<em>

Mello continued staring dumbfounded for a minute, simply allowing the name to sink in. His voice was caught in the back of his throat, and he couldn't even form words. Finally, he managed to stumble out: "A-a-a-Alex? Th-th- "THE" Alex?"

Matt seemed just as lost for words. His mouth was still slightly open, his green eyes open wide, staring in even more disbelief than Mello. "Y-yeah," he whispered, his voice faint.

This time, when Mello looked back at the blond boy, he studied him carefully. His hair was a bright, platinum blond (Mello wondered if he had dyed it), that was cut short in the back, and left long in the front. The back of his hair was spiked slightly, and his bangs were swept to the side, almost coming to below his chin on both sides of his face. He had bright, radiant, ice blue eyes. Then Mello's eyes came to rest upon the black substance smeared around the top of his eyes, on the eyelids: eyeliner. Thick, black eyeliner that would have made Bill Kaulitz's eyes look naked in comparison. However, the overly-done eyeliner only seemed to help in making his eyes stand out even more. Compared to this boy, Mello felt unworthy in terms of appearance. Alex was beautiful.

Despite Mello's critical -and rather unwelcome- stare, Alex managed a small smile. "Alex," he said, nodding slightly. "Alex Garnier."

Mello couldn't stifle the laugh that escaped his throat. "G-Garnier?" he said, biting his lower lip to keep from smiling. "Like the shampoo?"

Matt rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes."

To Mello's surprise, Alex laughed. "You isn't the first person to comment on that," he said, thoroughly amused. His blue eyes sparkled, and Mello could feel a surge of jealousy seep through his veins.

Marc had been right in mentioning that Alex's English wasn't perfect. It was like a Scandinavian speaking English with a French accent.

"Look, I'm uh – I'm going to go talk to Marc about this, okay?" Matt said, shifting uncomfortably. He immediately darted out of the room, towards where Marc had disappeared.

As Matt disappeared, Mello focused on Alex again. He was staring around the room, at nothing in particular, seemingly not uncomfortable in the least. Mello felt that he should at least attempt to be polite. "Uh, you wanna sit down, or...something?" he offered, gesturing towards the couch.

"Oh, thank you," Alex said, smiling as he took a seat. Mello, rather reluctantly, sat down beside him.

They didn't say anything for a few minutes. Alex sat leaned against the back of the couch, his legs crossed (Mello wondered how it was possible for a guy to even sit like that), and Mello took this time to regard his clothes. He was wearing tight dark-faded denim jeans that also piqued Mello's curiosity of how _any_ guy could wear jeans that tight. Underneath the gray jacket he wore was a black T-shirt with – NO. No fucking way, it couldn't be...

"You...like Bill Kaulitz?" Mello asked, staring down at the shirt, which sure enough had the singer's face plastered on it.

"Oh, absolutely," Alex replied. He then noticed Mello's expression. "What? Is something wrong?"

"Uh, n-no, nothing. It's just... Matt uh -"

"Oh, yeah, I know." Alex laughed. "He had heard never of the band before I forced him to listen to it."

So that was it. Mello could feel his hands clench slightly around the leather sofa. "I see." His gaze flickered, but he quickly recovered himself and looked back up at Alex. "So uh, how long does it take you to get that eyeliner off anyway?" he asked, amused, but more of making fun of him than anything.

"Hm, I am not sure," he mused, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. "I hasn't timed it before."

Mello only nodded, an eyebrow raised. As Alex reached up to bite his nails, Mello noticed he was wearing black nail-polish. Seeing this, the blond couldn't resist. "So you uh, you're pretty much the stereotypical gay male, aren't you?" He couldn't help but ask.

Alex laughed. "Oh, I am not gay."

Mello raised an eyebrow.

"I like boys _and_ girls," he answered cheerfully.

Before Mello could reply, Matt showed up in the room. "Uh, why don't we go upstairs?" he said to Mello, and then looked at Alex, his expression emotionless. "Viens."

XxX

"Wow, this room is much better than at home!" Alex commented cheerfully in French.

The three boys were now in the guest room upstairs, a ways down the hall from Matt and Mello's room. Alex was sitting on the large, double bed, looking around in wonder at the room, similar to how Mello had first surveyed the house.

"Uh, thanks," Matt replied, standing close to the doorway and leaning up against the wall.

Alex looked over at Matt and then his eyes traveled curiously to Mello. "I don't thinks that I have your name," he said, walking over to the two boys.

"It's Mello," Mello said.

"A nickname?" Alex guessed, raising an eyebrow.

"You got it, shampoo-boy." Mello gave a small smirk, and Matt elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

Alex didn't seem bothered by the comment. "So you are Matt's...?" he trailed off.

"He's a friend," Matt interrupted quickly, looking down at the ground. He could feel the burning death glare that Mello sent his way.

"I see," said Alex knowingly.

"Look, Mello -" Matt said, not looking at the other boy still. "Would you leave us alone for a little while?"

Though Matt knew that this was the _last_ thing Mello wanted to do, the blond promptly went out the door with a snappish, "Klar, kein Problem," and slammed the door loudly behind him.

Then it was just he and Alex.

"I suppose Marc told you all about me, huh?" Alex asked, switching to French, as he once more crossed his legs and perched himself on the bed.

Matt shook his head. "What happened to you, Alex?" he said, also speaking French. "Drugs? Are you serious!"

The blond in front of him gave a bored sigh. "People change."

"That so?" Matt said, crossing his arms tightly against his chest. "I don't get it... were you doing all this when we were dating?"

"Of course not!" Alex said, though his eyes faltered a bit.

"Oh, I see. So it's just something new, is it?"

"Please, Matt..." he pleaded. "Just pretend you don't know me."

"Pretend that I-!" Matt cried incredulously. "You left me when my parents died! When I needed you the most!"

Alex's gaze immediately fell to the floor, and his reply was soft. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? That's all you have to say! After what you did-!"

Alex's eyes lowered again, ashamed. "I don't know what else to say..."

Hot tears of fury and hurt sprung into Matt's eyes. He could feel his hands clench into fists at his side. "You left me..."

"I know, I was selfish," Alex said regretfully. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say..."

Matt didn't know, either, honestly. What did he expect, for the boy to grovel at his feet? To cry and plead and beg for Matt to forgive him?

No, that was above Alex. He was much too arrogant to ask forgiveness. Then again, was he? He'd barely been here five minutes, and already Matt could tell he had changed. The Alex that Matt knew would have strode into the living room behind Marc, head held high and a confident smirk on his face. Instead, he'd entered like a timid child, eyes downcast and quiet. He had changed; he was different.

With a heavy sigh, Matt gave into defeat and was silent.

"Look," Alex said. "I know I was wrong in what I did. You needed me the most, and I abandoned you. I know it was stupid and selfish. I don't expect you to forgive me," he said softly.

He was actually saying it. Maybe not in the context Matt had imagined, but he'd mentioned forgiving, at least.

"Whatever," Matt muttered, and it was his turn to look at the ground.

"Matt, I swear, if I'd had any idea that Marc was your uncle -"

"I know," Matt finished with a sigh. "Look, just uh – get some sleep, or whatever. I'm going to bed," he turned towards the door, but Alex's voice stopped him.

"So is Mello really just your friend?" he inquired.

Matt didn't answer. He wordlessly opened the door, and strode into the hallway, closing it sharply behind him.

XxX

Mello was sitting on Matt's bed when he entered the room, his arms crossed and a severely pissed look on his face.

"Look, Mello -"

The blond shook his head and stood up from the bed. For a second, Matt thought the other boy might hit him. However Mello did nothing more than stare. "So I'm just your friend, am I?" he said sharply, his eyes locked on Matt's.

"Mello, please, I-"

Mello shook his head again and gave a disgusted sigh. "Save it." He headed towards the door, but Matt reached out and grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Mello, I'm sorry, okay? I just – I was surprised, that's all. I mean, Alex is kind of the last person I'd ever expect to show up here!"

"I still don't see the need to lie about who I am," the other boy said icily.

"I'm sorry," Matt apologized. "I shouldn't have said that. I just said the first thing that came to mind." He sighed and gave Mello a pleading look. "It's just, stressful, okay? Give me a break, okay? Please?"

Mello hesitated, but finally sighed and gave in, shrugging out of Matt's grip and heading towards the bed. "Whatever."

"Mello..." Matt went over and wrapped his arms around the other boy, pulling him close against him. "I'm sorry, okay?" He kissed the blond gently on the cheek. "I just got overwhelmed. I never imagined I'd even see Alex again. I'm sorry," he repeated.

Mello was silent for a minute, but then gave a sigh. "I'm sorry, too. I guess I overreacted. We've seemed to be doing nothing but fighting lately, and I'm sick of it. Let's just forget this whole thing, alright?"

"Forgotten." Matt turned him around and pressed their lips together. "Let's get some sleep, okay?" He tucked a strand of blond hair behind Mello's ear.

"Alright," Mello agreed softly, before enfolding Matt in his arms again. He buried his face against the redhead's shirt and inhaled deeply. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," Matt replied, returning the embrace and kissing the top of Mello's head. "And I promise, Alex being here is not going to change that."

XxX

"Who!" Emil's voice sounded on the other end of the phone.

"Alex, his ex-boyfriend," Mello whispered, holding the phone close to his mouth. It was past twelve midnight, and he was standing in the downstairs hallway, having snuck out of bed, talking on the phone resting on a nightstand.

"W-well is he hot?" Emil asked.

"Are you kidding!" Mello replied. "He's gorgeous!" He gave a sigh. "And he's French."

"What's that got to do with anything?" Emil asked curiously.

"Because he has that damn sexy French accent," Mello answered desolately.

"You think French accents are sexy?" Emil said, and for some reason his voice seemed to brighten at this thought. However he quickly reverted back to his usual monotone and changed the subject. "Never mind. Anyway...well, Jesus... If Matt said Alex wouldn't come between you two, he must have meant it. I know he cares about you, and even if it seems like you've been fighting a lot, I'm sure it'll get better. You have to accept that this all is really difficult for him right now. I mean, his ex-boyfriend showed up on his doorstep after leaving him when his parents died. It was a shock."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But since when are you on Matt's side?"

Emil gave a small laugh. "I'm not taking sides, I'm just explaining things logically."

"Yeah, I guess," Mello sighed. "I just feel so inferior. He's so perfect..." the blond moaned in despair.

"I doubt that's true. Even if he's hot, that doesn't mean he's perfect. And do you really think Matt would want to get back with the guy who dumped him when his parents died?"

"You'd be surprised. People get back with abusive partners, partners that treat them like complete shit. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he did. And besides, if you saw the guy, you'd understand."

"Just...go easy on Matt, okay? It's not his fault Alex is there. I mean, it's not as if there was any way for Marc to know that they already knew each other," Emil said.

"Yeah, yeah," Mello rolled his eyes, even though Emil couldn't see over the phone. "Anyway, I guess I should get back to bed."

"Alright. Sweet dreams," Emil said, and though his voice was in that joking, loving manner that couples used with each other, Mello knew he was being serious.

"'Night," he replied. "Sweet dreams." He couldn't help but smile.

"Oh, wait! I almost forgot to tell you-!" Emil began.

"What?" Mello asked, the phone halfway to the receiver. He quickly put it back up to his ear.

"Well, you know my aunt lives down in Munich, right?" Emil said, his voice anxious, as though he couldn't wait to tell the next part.

"Yeah, and...?"

"Well, I was just thinking... you know, about coming to stay with her for a while this summer. I could even visit you and Matt! I mean, if you don't mind. And M-Matt doesn't mind," he added, his voice slightly deflated.

"Of course we don't mind!" Mello said. "I'd love to see you." He smiled. "I've missed you."

"You have?" Emil sounded surprised.

"Of course I have," Mello laughed, as though it should have been obvious.

"I've missed you, too," Emil replied, his voice quiet. "A lot." For a moment he sounded depressed, but then he quickly brightened up. "Anyway, good night! I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"'kay. Goodnight," Mello repeated.

He could of sworn that the boy on the other end of the phone paused for a minute, as though wanting to say something else. However the next moment Mello could hear the soft 'click' that meant he'd hung up.

Just as Mello set the phone back down on the receiver, he heard a noise from a room nearby that made him jump. It was too dark to see much, but he could view a dim light down the hall, coming from the kitchen.

Slowly, he crept down the hall, keeping close to the wall, and listened. A soft clattering noise could be heard from the room, and Mello moved a bit closer to the doorway, just enough to peek briefly inside. A tall, blond figure was in the room, looking through the cabinets, occasionally taking junk food down.

His heart gave a jolt.

It was Alex.

As quietly as he could, Mello walked into the kitchen, simply standing there while Alex continued exploring the pantry. It wasn't until the other boy turned completely around that he noticed Mello and took a step back.

"Oh, uh, hi," he said quietly, his eyes slightly surprised. "You couldn't sleep either?"

"You couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," Alex replied, and Mello noticed that he was fidgeting. His right hand kept moving over to scratch his left forearm, even though there didn't appear to be anything there causing itching. Maybe it was just a habit. The thick black eyeliner wasn't on his eyes, and he looked like an almost completely different person without it. "I uh, doesn't sleep well during the night," he said, stammering a bit over the words as though he was nervous.

"Looking for something?" Mello asked, eying the food spread all over the counter.

"Oh, uh," Alex smiled and blushed a little. "Hungry." He turned back and picked up a bag of chips. "Do you thinks that they'll care?"

Mello gave a shrug, suddenly taking pity on him. "Matt will just think I ate it."

Slumping down into a chair opposite Mello, Alex opened the bag and proceeded with eating a few chips. "I doesn't know why, I'm just really hungry at night." Glancing down at the bag, he held it out towards the boy in front of him. "Want some?"

"Uh, sure." Mello suddenly felt like his own stomach was very empty, and he never was one to pass up an opportunity for food. He reached in the bag and took out his own handful of chips.

Alex continued eating for a minute, and then looked at Mello very carefully, as though trying to decide how to say something. "Listen..." he began slowly, and then paused. "First, my English is terrible, so if I'm hard to understand, I'm sorry." He sighed. "Second, please believe me when I says that I'm not here to take Matt away from you. I'm just here because of Marc."

Mello crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I know," he mumbled.

"What Matt and I had is over, I promise you. And if I knew that Marc was his uncle, I wouldn't have-"

"I know," Mello surprised himself by saying. "It's not your fault."

A small smile fleeted across Alex's face. "Thank you." He sighed. "I suppose then, that you don't like me, huh?"

"I don't dislike you..." Mello muttered, even though it was only half-true. "And wait -!" he began, suddenly realizing something. "How'd you know Matt and I-?"

Alex laughed, and Mello blushed. "Oh, I'm not stupid. I saw the look on your face when Matt said that you is just a friend" He paused. "If I was you, I would be pissed that he said that."

Mello managed an indifferent shrug, even though it _had_ severely pissed him off. "It's fine."

"So...where did you two meet, anyway?"

"Summer camp," Mello said.

"Summer camp?" Alex snorted. "Serious?"

"I know, that's the last place you'd imagine him," Mello said, slightly exasperated.

"Yeah, a little," Alex replied with a laugh.

"Anyway, I guess I should be going back to bed..." Mello began, standing up from the table.

"Yeah," Alex agreed, smiling slightly. "Good night."

"Er...'night," Mello said uncomfortably, before turning and walking towards the doorway, out into the hall, and trudging up the stairs towards the bedroom.

XxX

Matt opened his eyes when he felt a weight on the other side of the bed.

"Mmm...Mello?" he gave a yawn and rolled over on his side to see the blond just now crawling into the bed. "Where you were?" he muttered sleepily. "I mean...where were you?" He reached over and wrapped an arm around the other boy's waist, snuggling close.

"Nowhere, just getting a drink of water," Mello lied. He laid down beside Matt and curled up beside him, resting his head against his chest. "Good night."

"..mm...night..." A few seconds later, Matt was snoring again.

XxX

The next morning, Matt woke up to find the spot next to him in the bed empty. It wasn't the fact that Mello was already up that surprised him; the odd thing was that Mello hadn't woken him up. Usually the blond would shake Matt awake as soon as he had gotten up. However this morning, the side next to him was cold, suggesting that Mello had been awake for a while. Matt figured he must have been considerate and just let him sleep in.

Changing into a clean pair of clothes, Matt brushed out his hair as best he could before heading downstairs. Alex and Mello were both in the living room watching television, while Marc was in the kitchen cooking. The windows were up, and a light breeze floated throughout the house. One thing Matt absolutely loved about summer was the nice weather; it gave him a relaxed, peaceful feeling.

As he stepped into the living room, Alex and Mello both turned towards him. Alex hadn't changed out of the T-shirt and sweatpants he'd worn to bed, but his hair was straightened and neatly fixed, and the thick black eyeliner back on his eyelids. He was wearing a dark gray cotton jacket and fiddling with a thin gray cotton headband that he was wearing as a choker around his neck. "Ah, bonjour!" Alex said cheerfully. "T'veux regarder la télé?" He asked.

"Non merci," Matt replied through clenched teeth, before stalking into the kitchen.

When he slammed the refrigerator door closed after getting a drink, Marc looked up at him curiously. "Something wrong?" he asked.

"No," Matt replied, though the look on his face clearly contradicted that.

"Oui, oui, sûr..." Marc raised an eyebrow, but didn't press the matter further. "So, I was thinking... It's a pretty day, why don't the three of you go out to town or something?"

Matt gave an indifferent shrug. "Where is there to go?"

"I don't know," Marc said. "The movies, shopping..."

"We're boys. Girls go shopping," Matt said dryly.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Marc's mouth. "Still, wouldn't it be nice to get out for a while?"

"Are you just saying this to get us to leave?" Matt asked skeptically.

"Of course not," Marc replied. "I just think that it's normal for a teenage boy to get out once in a while." He shrugged. "But by all means, do what you want."

"And isn't it 'normal' for a thirty-seven year old man to be married, or at least dating?" Matt said, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, when do I have time to date with all of my work?" Marc asked, turning and smiling at his nephew. "Just take my advice Matt, and have some fun for once."

"I have fun," Matt protested.

"Oh really?" Marc replied. "How, exactly?"

Matt blushed a little and shifted uncomfortably. "I just...do, okay?"

"Sure, whatever," Marc laughed.

"Fine," Matt gave in. "If it'll make you happy, we'll go somewhere this week." He held up his hands in surrender. "Happy?"

Marc shrugged, pretending to be indifferent. "I'm not forcing you to do anything."

"You're unbelievably annoying, you know that?" Matt said, shaking his head. "No wonder you and Mello get along so well."

Marc grinned. "You think so?"

XxX

Matt was sitting in his room later that afternoon when he heard a soft knock on the door.

"Come in," he called rather half-heartedly from his place on the window seat, where he was reading a book he'd dug out of his closet.

The doorknob turned, and the door softly creaked open, Alex walking into the room a moment later. Matt's eyes flickered up once, regarding Alex with a distasteful expression before going back down to his book, though he wasn't even reading it now. "What do you want?" he said tightly.

Alex stood awkwardly a few feet from the window, glancing from the floor to Matt every few seconds, wringing his hands nervously in front of him. "Look, can we just...talk?" he said, shrugging his shoulders hopelessly.

"What is there to talk about?"

"Everything," Alex replied with a heavy sigh, sitting down on the bed. "I know you hate me, I can't change that. But please, can we at least just act civil about this?" His voice was almost pleading.

Matt was silent for a while, debating things in his head. Finally, he spoke. "I don't hate you," he said softly, not taking his eyes off of the book.

"Could've fooled me," Alex said with a dry laugh.

"How do you expect me to act?" Matt asked.

"Well, you don't want Marc to know that we know each other, however if you act like you can't stand me, he might sense something is up."

"I'm not acting like I can't stand you."

"Right," Alex said sarcastically. He took a deep breath and thought for a minute. "So is Mello really just your friend?"

"What's it to you?" Matt replied snappishly.

Alex shrugged. "Just curious." He paused. "It just seems like you two are more than friends to me."

"So what if we are?" Matt retorted. "It's none of your business who I date."

"Do you love him?"

"Huh?" this time, Matt looked up at Alex, surprised.

"Do you love him?" Alex repeated simply, staring Matt in the face.

"W-well of course I do," Matt replied. "What the hell are you getting at?"

"It just looks to me like, if you really loved him, you would tell Marc that the two of you were together. Yet your uncle doesn't even know you like guys." Alex shrugged, pretending to be indifferent, though Matt could tell he was trying to be a prick.

"I don't need you giving me advice," Matt snapped.

"I'm not giving you advice, I'm simply stating my opinion," Alex answered smoothly.

"Well it isn't necessary."

To his surprise, Alex gave a soft, amused laugh. "You know, you actually haven't changed that much." He shook his head, in an almost affectionate way. "Putting on a tough exterior when you're really just a scared little child inside."

"Just shut up!" Matt half-screamed. "What the hell do you know, anyway!"

Alex simply shrugged and stood up from the bed. "I guess I shouldn't have tried talking to you." He headed for the door. "I'll see you at dinner, then." Softly, he opened and closed the door.

XxX

Mello wasn't quite sure what compelled him to knock on the other boy's door that night, but for some reason he found himself standing in the hallway, waiting for an answer from within the room. It was around ten at night, and Matt had already fallen asleep. Mello -bored- had found nothing better to do than this, so therefore he was now shifting awkwardly from foot to foot while mentally debating whether or not to turn around.

"Come in," came a voice a few seconds later, and Mello opened the door, slowly stepping inside. The blond boy inside looked up at him as he entered and gave a half-smile as the door shut behind him. "Is this that you want something?" He asked pleasantly.

"Uh, no -I, uh, just..." Mello ran a hand through his hair, unable to find a logical reason for his unexpected visit. "I just thought that maybe we could, uh...talk?" He shrugged, blushing a little.

"Sûr, about what?" Alex asked, setting down the book he was reading and turning to face Mello on the bed as the other boy sat down.

"W-well, uh..." Once more, Mello couldn't find an answer. "Just...whatever." He shrugged again, his eyes fixed on the blankets as he wrung his hands in his lap. Alex was sitting unfazed in front of him, calmly, as though he wasn't uncomfortable in the least. How was it that the other boy could always act so relaxed, even in the tensest of situations?

"Okay..." Alex gave an amused sort of laugh. "Like what?"

"Well uh...I was wondering, um – well, why you were in foster care to begin with?" Mello said quietly. It was true that this was a question he'd been wanting to ask since he'd met Alex, but had refrained out of courtesy and manners. He'd figured it an utmost rude question to ask, but considering the circumstances, he figured he might as well get it out of the way.

"Oh, uh -" For once, Alex seemed to puzzle over a response. His brow furrowed as though he was thinking it over, and he bit his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Well, my mom was uh – not so great."

Mello resisted the impulse to laugh at the simple irony of that statement; oh, how he could empathise. Though it wasn't as if he would ever tell the other boy this.

"And uh, she started drinking, taking drugs, and uh – did not pay much attention to me, so when they checked it all and saw how we lived, they arrested her and took me away." He shrugged, as though the matter was truly that simple. "What did you expect?" he laughed.

"I-I dunno," Mello mumbled, truthfully. "What about your dad?"

"I never knew him," Alex replied breezily. "I lived with my mom and her boyfriend."

"Oh, well – what happened to him?"

This time, he could sense Alex tense slightly, and saw the other boy shift uncomfortably. "Well..." he began slowly. "He is in jail."

"Jail?" Mello glanced up to read the other boy's face, which was dead serious, his eyes fixed on the wall. "For what?"

"...sexual abuse."

"O-oh... uh, of who?" Mello asked, but as he saw Alex's gaze lower, he suddenly understood. "O-oh! Oh, uh...wow, I uh, I'm sorry, I uh...th-that's awful, uh..." He found himself at a loss for words, jolted by both the surprise and the awkwardness.

"Hm, no big thing." Alex shrugged and brushed it off.

"So when...?" Mello trailed off, wondering if it would be more polite just to let the sensitive topic drop.

"Since I was eleven," Alex replied, trying to appear nonchalant though at the same time not meeting Mello's gaze. "My mom didn't believe me at first, until she saw it for herself. She was so angry she forced him to leave and he was arrested for another charge sometime later."

"I'm sorry," Mello said, shaking his head in disbelief. "That must have sucked, all of it..."

Alex simply shrugged again, feigning a smile. "It is over now, anyway, non? I just try and forget."

"It doesn't seem like anyone could forget something like that," Mello muttered. He was quiet for a minute, and then a sudden thought occurred to him. "Say...did your mother ever...hit you?" he asked quietly, his eyes flickering from the bed-covers to Alex, and then back again.

"Hit me?" Alex repeated. "Hm... well, yeah, sometimes. When she had too much to drink or something. Why?" He regarded Mello closely. "Your mom hits you?" he asked softly.

Mello could feel his heart skip a beat, and he kept his gaze carefully controlled on the wall just behind Alex. "S-sometimes," he said quietly.

To his surprise, he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "That isn't your fault, you know. There is nothing for be ashamed of."

A dry laugh came from Mello's throat. "Nothing to be ashamed of, huh?"

"Well, why be ashamed of something beyond your control?" Alex said.

"I guess...I never thought that."

"Everyone has moments that they isn't very proud of. Everyone has problems. It is just...how you endure with them that matters. How you go through it."

"I just...don't know what to do," Mello said hopelessly.

"Matt knows?"

"Y-yeah, he knows...some of it," Mello admitted. "But he just worries."

"Of course he worries. He loves you." Alex smiled. "You is lucky to have someone who loves you so deeply."

Mello gave another stale laugh. "Yeah, well uh, right now it doesn't seem that way."

"People go through hard times. But things will work out. Matt endures with a lot right now." He sighed. "It is my fault, I am afraid."

"Your fault?" Mello repeated, his eyes snapping back up to the other boy's face.

"It's because I'm here that Matt is so stressed..." An apologetic look crossed Alex's face. "But he loves you, I can see. Please don't let me here change that."

"He won't tell his uncle," Mello said. "And I don't understand. Last summer, he had no problem with the guys knowing, yet he won't tell Marc. And he says he doesn't care what people think..."

Alex surprised him by laughing. "Is that what he told you?"

"What?" Mello demanded. "Did he lie?"

The other boy paused, and bit his lower lip as though he was trying not to smile. "Matt has always, um...tried to appear indifferent. In reality, he is afraid for people to know who he is really. He wants to not care, but sometimes he can't helps it."

"Afraid?" Mello repeated.

"Matt has always been afraid to get close to people. More so after dating me, I am afraid... Back in France, when everyone discovered... it was a nightmare for him. The few friends he had abandoned him. He has just always tried to hide who he is really, for fear that those who know him will not like him if they know."

"But, Marc is his uncle – family! I mean..."

"Yes, but you go tell any of your family?"

"W-well, no, but – that's different!" Mello said.

"Even if Marc would not care, Matt is just comfortable to live the lie and hide who really he is. It is as simple as that."

As simple as that.

"So you're saying he'd rather just pretend his whole life?"

"Maybe not his whole life," Alex said. "Just, right now...he feels that is easiest. He will not get close to anyone easily – even his own uncle."

"But he got close to me!" Mello protested hopelessly.

"And how well does you know him really?" Alex replied knowingly.

Mello was rendered silent. What Alex had said was undeniably true, no matter how one looked at it.

"Mello... have you and Matt ever had sex?" Alex asked.

"Wh-what? N-no, no, we haven't..." Mello answered, his voice deflating a bit with the last word.

"I see," Alex mused thoughtfully.

"Well, have you ever...? With anyone?"

Alex thought for a minute, and then shrugged his shoulders. "Sûr, a few times. It is not as big a thing as everyone makes it. At least, not for me."

"So...what is it like? Sex?" Mello asked, blushing a little as his gaze faltered.

The other boy laughed and ran a hand through his blond hair, before beginning to fiddle with the thin cotton headband still wrapped around his neck. "Well, when it is with the person who you love, it is wonderful." He smiled.

"What about...well, you know..." Mello trailed off.

"Ah, I see," Alex said knowingly. "Well, it hurts, of course. But then it feels wonderful – at least, if the other person knows what they do," he laughed.

"Do you think Matt and I ever will?" Mello asked softly.

"Oh, sûr," Alex said, smiling. "Just give him time to adjust to things right now. He can being very stubborn, but he is really just about as experienced as you." He laughed.

XxX

Mello didn't go up to his and Matt's room that night. Instead, he curled up under numerous blankets on the couch and watched television, without really paying attention to the shows. He kept brooding over what Alex had told him, and the way Matt had always acted, directly contradicting all the statements he'd made saying that he didn't care what people thought. What Alex had said fit more with Matt's behaviour than anything. After all, it was human nature to care what other people thought. Mello could feel a certain twisted anger and betrayal settle within him. Matt had deliberately lied to him, said he had never lied when Alex had said that he did. Who was to believe? Mello had certainly known Matt longer, but he couldn't help but feel more content with what Alex had said. Alex had dated Matt, Alex knew him -better than Mello did, possibly. Then again, why _wouldn't_ Alex lie? He obviously didn't care about Matt, his childhood was enough to tell Mello that the other boy was more messed up than he'd first thought, and what would it matter to him if this bit of information destroyed Mello and Matt's relationship? Perhaps that was what he had been aiming for.

"What are you doing down here?"

At the sound of Matt's voice behind him, all of the anger and betrayal that Mello had been feeling moments before came back in one fell swoop. He turned around to look at the other boy, no distinguishable expression on his face. "I thought I'd sleep down here tonight," he replied, rather stiffly.

"What? Why?" Matt said, bewildered.

"Just want to."

"Mello, what's wrong?" Matt walked over and sat beside him on the couch. He reached over to place a hand on his shoulder, but Mello slapped it away. "Hey – what'd I do?" Matt asked, sounding hurt.

"You're never going to tell Marc about us, are you?" Mello said flatly, turning to stare steadily in Matt's eyes.

"This again?" the redhead sighed.

"It's true, though. You're never going to tell him," Mello stated. "Because however indifferent you try and act, you're really nothing but a coward."

"What!"

"I talked to Alex, okay?" Mello said softly.

"Oh, so now you're listening to what _he_ says?" Matt scoffed angrily. "I have news for you, Mello: Alex _LIES_."

"But it's so obviously true, Matt!" Mello retorted, standing up from the couch and whirling around to face Matt, who was still sitting, stunned. "You won't tell your uncle, you refuse to get close to _anyone_, and you're just pretending to be something you aren't! You hide behind the stupid mask and façade that you've created just so you won't get hurt!" he suddenly stopped, realizing he had been yelling. Matt was sitting, frozen, staring at Mello in a slight shock. When he didn't respond, however, Mello felt compelled to continue. "You're too comfortable in your lies! You're a coward!"

"Fine!" Matt finally spoke, standing up from the couch himself. "You're right, okay! Happy! You're right! And you know what else! The_ only_ reason I told those boys at camp last summer was because I knew I'd never see them again! And I was only trying to help _you_. I knew they'd give you hell if I didn't say something. Had that not been the situation, I never would have told anyone there!"

"You're pathetic!" Mello cried. "You lied to me! You told me that you never lied about it, that you weren't ashamed! Yet, here you are, so ashamed of who you are and so afraid of being hurt -because of whatever shit happened in France- that you won't even tell your last living family that you like guys! You're nothing but a coward! I hate -!"

The last word never left his mouth.

Matt didn't register what he was doing. All he was aware of was lunging forward, grabbing the other boy's wrists in his hands and pushing him down to the floor, hard, pinning the blond beneath him. He straddled him with his legs and sat for a few seconds, breathing deeply to control the sudden anger boiling within him. He could feel his hands tighten subconsciously around the blond's wrists.

Then he saw Mello's eyes. They were wide, terrified, frozen. And it was with the pure adamant terror that Matt had only seen him show to one person, last summer.

His mother.

A sudden feeling of shame washed over Matt, and he slowly released Mello's wrists, sliding off of the other boy and resting on the floor. Mello sat up, shaking slightly as he held his wrist and regarded Matt, tears welling in his eyes.

"Mello..."

Before Matt could even find words to say that could possibly make up for what he had just done, Mello had stood up and disappeared into the hallway, his footsteps fading up the stairs.

XxX

Mello couldn't see where he was going. All he registered next, as he ran blindly through the hall, was a pair of arms catch him in his tracks and pull him close. He buried his face against their chest and breathed in deeply, trying to stop crying. Whoever it was who had caught him, they were warm. Mello felt an almost instant feeling of contentment wash over him, and he clung to them, sobbing into their shoulder. He didn't care who it was at this point. Though he did think he might strangle Alex when he regained enough composure.

But it wasn't Alex's voice that spoke into his ear.

It was Marc's.

At that moment, Mello wanted nothing more than to tell Marc everything, to expose all of Matt's lies, to confide in Marc and ask what he should do. But he couldn't. He just couldn't. Unable to choke out any words, Mello simply clung to Marc and sobbed; sobbed for the parents that hated him, for the friend whose feelings he couldn't reciprocate, for the lie he was being forced to keep, and simply because he really, really, felt like crying.

XxX

"Are you okay now?"

Mello nodded, staring down into the warm cup of tea that Marc had placed in his hands. They were sitting in Marc's study, Mello finally having stopped crying, and Marc patiently awaiting any explanation from the blond as to why he had been crying in the first place.

"Do you...want to talk?" Marc asked gently, sitting -not behind his desk- but beside Mello on the dark red leather sofa in the room.

Truthfully, Mello did want to talk. He wanted to tell Marc everything, but something held him back.

"Did you and Matt have a fight?" Marc guessed, and Mello nodded, hot tears springing back into his eyes.

Marc put a comforting arm around the blond's shoulders. "I suppose you won't tell me what it was about?" he sighed.

Slowly, Mello shook his head.

"Look, Mello, whatever you tell me is held in confidence. I won't tell Matt you told me, and if I can, I'd like to help you."

"It's nothing," Mello muttered. "Just stuff."

"Stuff can be a lot of things. Want to be more specific?"

Mello gave a sort of dry laugh. "Just stuff. Nothing major."

"It must have been pretty major for you to be crying like that."

The blond was silent, unable to meet Marc's eyes. He thought it over carefully, slowly, to make the words come out just right. "Did you ever know someone who acted like they didn't care what people thought, but when it mattered, they would go to great lengths just to hide who they really are?"

"Well, everyone cares what people think. Try as much as you want, but it's human nature." Marc smiled. "But no one should be ashamed of who they are or how they feel. If someone pretends and hides their entire life, they'll forget who they even are."

Mello couldn't help but think the last line sounded exactly like what Leo had told Tobi in '_Sommersturm_'.

"But what if they won't even tell their family who they are?" Mello asked quietly.

"If someone gets too comfortable pretending, sometimes it can be hard to break away from that. They may feel like showing anyone -even their own family- is a sign of weakness on their part. They may want to act like they can solve all their problems on their own, even when they can't. They might feel that confiding in someone else makes them look weak and incapable. And for someone who has been hurt, it may be really hard for them to trust anyone to be aware of that weakness."

"Even family?"

"Even family," Marc nodded.

It was true that Alex was probably responsible for much of how Matt was now: reluctant to trust anyone, appearing indifferent, while really hiding behind a façade. At the same time Mello was furious with him, he couldn't help but feel sympathy towards Matt. Not to mention the growing desire to choke Alex until the other boy was gasping for breath.

"You asked me if I knew someone like that?" Marc asked, and Mello nodded. "I did," Marc said.

"Who?" the blond questioned.

"Myself."

"You?"

"I was young once," Marc said. "I had problems just like anyone else. I know what it's like to be alone, and feel like there's no one you can talk to. That's one reason I decided to be a Social Worker; so I could help kids like that." He paused and gave a sigh. "Mello, I know Matt cares about you. Everyone fights, so don't take all the angry things he says to heart, because I guarantee you that he doesn't mean half of them."

It hadn't necessarily been something Matt had _said_ that had made Mello so upset, but he didn't feel like explaining this to Marc. "I know..." he said. "Everything has just been...tense lately." He pulled his feet up on the couch and hugged his knees to his chest. "It seems like we're always fighting lately, and I don't even know why anymore."

"Well..." Marc said slowly. "I'm not sure how much help I can be if I don't know what these fights are about," he stated.

"Nothing. Everything."

"That's quite a span of things that it could be about," Marc reasoned.

"I should go," Mello set, setting the now-empty cup on a nearby table and standing up from the couch. "Thanks again, for...you know."

Marc smiled. "I'm here anytime."

XxX

Matt was sitting on the bed when Mello arrived in the room, and he immediately jumped up, apology written all over his face. "Mello, I'm so sorry!" he began, shaking his head. "I swear I didn't mean to do that, and everything else, I – I'm so sorry...!" His voice shook.

To his surprise, Mello walked over and wordlessly wrapped his arms around Matt's neck, burying his face in his shoulder. "Forget it." He sighed. "I don't want to fight with you anymore. I don't care anymore, I just don't." He pulled back and looked into Matt's green eyes before leaning forward and pressing his lips gently to the redhead's, pushing Matt back on the bed and straddling his lap.

Reacting mostly out of instinct, Matt pulled the blond closer and deepened the kiss. He wrapped his arms around the other boy and drew him close until their bodies were pressed together, and he could feel the blond's knee rubbing between his legs. This caused a small little spasm of pleasure to spread from his groin all throughout his body, and he concealed the gasp that would've escaped him otherwise. Gripping Mello tightly by both shoulders, Matt mustered up enough force to push the other boy off of him and pin the blond beneath him on the bed, panting. "You ... you'll never give up with this, will you?" he gasped.

"I have yet to completely turn you on," Mello commented. "I'm just trying to experiment with my boundaries." He smiled slightly.

"Well you've just about reached your limit, so quit it," Matt ordered.

"Why are you so adamant about this anyway?" Mello asked, raising an eyebrow. "I mean, the whole point to ending an argument is to have great makeup sex. Haven't you seen the movies?"

Matt rolled his eyes. "Look, I already told you my reasons for not wanting to. And tonight especially isn't the right time for this – especially with Alex here, and everything else that's going on... I- I have too much on my mind, okay?"

"But you aren't a woman, Matt. Sex helps men _forget_ what's on their mind," Mello reasoned. "Or...do you just wish that I was Alex instead?"

"Of course not!" Matt said. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Good, because from what he's told me, you would not be his first," Mello said nonchalantly.

Despite himself, Matt couldn't help but be curious. "Wh-what do you mean?"

"Let's just say he is the last thing you would want to touch, and not just because of his escapades after you two broke up."

"What's that supposed to mean!" Matt demanded.

"Forget it." Mello heaved a sigh and sat up, carelessly shrugging out of Matt's hold beneath him. "Fine, I'll respect your opinion. But tell me something, okay?"

"Uh, sure...what is it?"

"If I were a girl, and you liked girls, would we have had sex by now?" Mello asked, crossing his arms and staring Matt in the face.

"W-well, I-I don't know! Maybe...maybe not... How am I supposed to know?"

"Just answer the question."

"I don't know!" Matt repeated. "The last thing I want to do is imagine sleeping with a girl."

"So you don't like them at all, then?" the blond said curiously, sitting down on the bed.

"Of course not."

"Why?"

This question caught Matt off guard. "H-huh? What d'you mean 'why'?"

"Why don't you like girls? What turns you off about them?" Mello asked simply, shrugging his shoulders.

"I don't know..." Matt repeated again. "Mostly the emotional immaturity. All they care about is pink, and shopping, and make up, and boy bands..."

Mello giggled. "You do realise that all those things you listed are things that the stereotypical gay guy -and Alex- enjoy?"

Matt couldn't resist a laugh. "I guess you're right," he reasoned. "But...it's different with boys."

"How so?" Mello asked, cocking his head to one side.

"I don't know..." the redhead sighed. "Girls are just too clingy -"

"So am I, and a lot of other guys," Mello threw back.

"Gods, what's with all the questions?" Matt asked, pushing Mello back on the bed and straddling him. "I just don't like girls. What're you getting at?"

Mello shrugged. "Just curious. I'm not getting at anything in particular."

"Okay, so why don't _you_ like girls?" Matt questioned.

"Because you're an option," he replied instantly, and Matt was startled.

"Because...why?"

"You are and will be the only boy I ever love. I don't like girls because they expect the boy to be the supportive one, and listen to all of their ridiculous crap. I could never find a connection with any girls that was more than friendship. But I've never liked another boy, either. Not even Emil. And I don't think I ever could love anyone else," Mello reasoned.

"You could," Matt replied. "I thought the same thing, too, with Alex." He shook his head. "When you're in love with someone, you think they'll be the only person you'll ever love. Especially your first same-gender crush. That's the hardest. Especially if they end up not feeling the same way, it can take ages to get over them. It took me a year, with Alex. But then I found you, didn't I?"

"I don't want you to be right though. I don't want to ever have to find anyone else. I only want you," the blond replied. "And I want to be the only one for you. But you've already been with Alex, so I know that it's possible for you to like someone else."

"Mello, I love you now. And I see myself loving you in the future. And at this moment in time, you have me," Matt told him. "So don't start turning everything into a Soap Opera."

Mello smiled. "But all of this seems oddly Soap Opera-ish, doesn't it?"

Matt rolled his eyes, but in an amused sort of way. "Come on, let's just go to bed. It's late, if you haven't realised it."

"Can I sleep in here, tonight, then?" Mello said.

"I don't see why not," Matt replied, crawling under the covers of the bed and turning off the bedside lamp. He could feel the blond's warm body slink in next to him and wrap an arm tightly around his waist. "Say, Mello," he said suddenly. "Turn around."

"Huh?"

"Just do it."

Though confused, the blond obeyed and turned over on his other side, facing the doorway. Matt in turn rolled over on his other side and moved closer to Mello, slipping his arm around the blond's waist and burying his face in the other boy's back. He felt Mello tense slightly in surprise, but then the blond relaxed. "I'm sorry for lying last year," Matt said softly. "It's just...when you confessed to me that night, I... I saw myself in you that night."

"Huh? What do you mean?" Mello replied.

"I had been in your place a year before. Scared, confused, afraid to let anyone know... And, I guess I told you all the things I did because I didn't want you to end up a coward like me. But...when you actually stood up there, and was going to tell all those guys you were gay, I... I think I was jealous."

"Jealous?"

"You had the courage to do what I never could, and I was jealous. So when you admitted yourself, I felt sort of...obligated...to do the same. I mean, I really didn't care what those boys thought, that was true. I'd never see them again, and I really didn't care. But still, to actually admit it... I don't think I ever could have done that if you hadn't have done it first."

"You know, it seems kind of funny thinking back, that Emil was the one who caused all of that." Mello laughed slightly.

"Yeah," Matt agreed. "It is kind of funny. He's really quite harmless when you get to know him." He moved closer to Mello under the blankets and pressed his lips gently to the other boy's shoulder.

"Why the sudden affection?" Mello commented. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I'm sick of fighting," Matt sighed, closing his eyes and resting against the blond's warm body. "And I can't remember the last time we held each other like this."

"Hm..." Mello thought for a minute. "Me either." He turned over to face Matt, wrapping his arms around the redhead and scooting close against him until Matt could feel the other boy's breath on his face. "It's nice." He smiled.

"Yeah, it is..." Matt kissed the blond lightly on the lips, and reached up to run his fingers through the other boy's soft blond hair. He then closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Mello's. "I love you."

"I love you too."

They both closed their eyes and, intertwined in each other's arms, fell to sleep shortly afterwards.

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 8-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Okay.<strong>

**1. It gave me the worst headache to try and butcher Alex's sentences accordingly. At first, I modified all the words with 'th' to conform to a bad French accent. But then I realised it would probably get on peoples' nerves, so I changed that and just really f-ed up his sentences. But that got on my nerves too, because it sounded retarded. (his last name also was just…I just needed something funny.)**

**So, I just made him talk like a Scandinavian (where 'I like' is 'I likes' and so on... I don't mean to offend anyone really, I find that adorable, but I've seen many people from Scandinavia talk like that.) The reason he talks like that is because he learned his English from a Norwegian boy he met a while back (this isn't going to be said in DZS, so I figure I might as well say it now). But that's the reason.**

**2. I didn't even think about it until I read over some things, but Alex is my 2****nd**** OC to have been sexually abused by an adult. I swear that was unintentional, I just have /no/ originality anymore. I watch too many Lifetime films. (*Lifetime = a channel dedicated to showing various films about abuse, drugs, wives cheating on husbands, husbands cheating on wives, wives murdering husbands, teen pregnancy, eating disorders, sex, romance, etc...)**

**Also, I tend to get stressed easily, and often take it out on others when I don't mean to (this goes with the whole bad relationship thing), and so a lot of that has been transferred into Matt and his actions.**


	9. Trust

Kapitel 09  
><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Vertrauen  
>"<strong>Trust"<br>**_Confiance_

* * *

><p>When Matt woke the next morning, the first thing he noticed was the blond still clinging to him in his sleep. Usually, the other boy would be awake by now, and begging for -or already eating- breakfast. However Mello was still in the same position as they had fallen asleep in the previous night, and this fact couldn't help but make Matt a little happy. He tightened his arms around the other boy and pulled him closer, the blond's head resting just below his chin.<p>

The bright sunlight outside informed Matt that it could be no earlier than noon. Doubly pleased, he closed his eyes and prepared to go back to sleep for the next few hours. However a knock on his door the next second prevented this, and he irritably raised up halfway in bed. "What?" he muttered sleepily.

The door opened a crack, and Alex poked his head in the room. "Your uncle wants you two downstairs, for breakfast. Or, well, lunch – it's almost one o'clock."

"Since when do we have lunch together?" Matt grumbled. "And don't just barge in here like you own the place."

"He wants to talk to you," Alex replied, undisturbed by Matt's hostile attitude. "And you should be thanking me. Marc _was_ about to come up here himself." He closed the door briskly and Matt could hear the other boy's footsteps fading downstairs.

Giving a heavy sigh, Matt fell back against his pillow, draping an arm loosely across his forehead. The last thing he wanted to do was have a 'family' lunch, especially if Alex was involved. However he _was_ hungry, and he really didn't want Alex -or Marc, indefinitely- in his room anymore that morning.

He reached over and shook Mello by the shoulder, receiving nothing but a low mumble as his reply. "Get up," Matt griped, shaking him a bit harder. "Lunch. Eat. Food. Now."

Even the mention of food didn't wake the blond. He simply rolled over and pulled the covers over his head.

"Fine, I give up." Matt sighed in defeat and pulled himself out of bed, yanking on a pair of jeans that had been lying on his floor. He gave a quick brush to his hair and left Mello to sleep as he trudged morosely downstairs.

Alex and Marc were in the kitchen, Alex's hair and make up fixed -as usual- even when he was still in the clothes he'd slept in, and the both of them eating as though they'd known each other all their lives. Then again, Matt did have to remember that Marc had been working with Alex for quite a while.

"Ah, bonjour!" Alex waved as he noticed Matt's arrival. "Mange." He gestured to the food awaiting him on the counter.

"Kay," Matt said nonchalantly, fixing himself a plate and seating himself opposite the blond.

Alex smiled. "Marc peut cuisiner très bien, n'est-ce pas?"

"Oui," Matt agreed, nodding.

"C'est pas juste moi" Marc laughed. "Il faut que tu manges la nourriture de Matt. C'est très bon."

"Je n'oublierai pas," Alex replied. He then looked around curiously, as though something was missing. "Où est Mello?"

"Asleep," Matt answered. "Couldn't drag him down here, even when I mentioned food. I would've slept, too, had _someone_ not ordered me down here."

"Ah, yes, that reminds me!" Marc said brightly. "I wanted to talk to you."

"A-about what?" Matt asked, now slightly fearful of what it could be.

"Oh, it's nothing serious, you can stop paling." He laughed, and Matt disguised the heavy sigh of relief that escaped him.

"So...what is it, then?" Matt prompted, when Marc didn't continue.

"Oh, yeah – well, as you know, there's tons of old stuff lying around this house. And I was thinking, just to make some extra money and have something to do... why don't we gather up some of the old junk and sell it?" Marc suggested.

"You mean like a yard sale?" Matt said.

"Exactly," Marc replied.

"I, personally, think it sounds fun," Alex commented.

For some reason, Matt had the eerie feeling that Mello would, too. "Yeah, sure. Not much else to do here, anyway."

"Splendid! So just gather up any odd stuff you don't want, and we'll take stuff from the attic as well," Marc explained. "It just seems like something fun to do during the summer. And seeing as you three absolutely refuse to get out of the house, this is my only other resort to force you from it."

Before Matt could make a sarcastic retort, the sudden sound of approaching footsteps caught their attention the next second, and they turned to see Mello walk in the kitchen.

"I didn't understand a word of that conversation," he said, and they took it to mean he'd been listening the entire time. "Care to repeat in German or English?"

Mello went over and promptly sat down in Matt's lap, as though it was his rightful throne. Alex hid a smile and quickly looked down at his plate, stifling a laugh. At first, Matt stiffened, fully prepared to push him into another chair. However, he really didn't feel like another argument afterwards, and knew the blond was probably only testing him, so he gave a sigh and allowed him to stay.

"We have a yard sale," Alex informed him cheerfully.

"Seriously!" Mello's eyes instantly brightened. "Neat! What kind of stuff are we going to sell?"

"Just some stuff from the attic," Marc replied. "Get rid of old junk we don't need."

"Sounds fun," Mello commented.

"I agree," Alex said.

"What do you think, Matt?" Mello asked, turning his head to regard the boy he was sitting on.

Matt gave an indifferent shrug. "Whatever."

"Oh, come on," Mello insisted, turning around in Matt's lap and facing him. "You always have to be such a killjoy." He poked him in the forehead.

"I'm not a killjoy," Matt argued. "I just said whatever."

"You could be a little happier about it," the blond said."

"_You_," Matt said, in a half-whisper to the other boy, "just behave."

Mello smiled and held up a hand in salute. "Yes sir!" he agreed.

"You're such a child," Matt muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Just taking full advantage of my childhood," Mello replied innocently.

"Yeah, except you _aren't_ a literal child."

"Age is at the heart, Matt, at the heart," he replied.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Marc agreed cheerfully.

Before Matt could retort, they all heard a knock on the front door, and Mello immediately jumped up. "I'll get it!" he said, and sprinted off towards the door.

The others started to return to their conversation, but were interrupted by a squeal the next second.

Wondering what all the commotion was, the three of them headed out into the main hallway to find Mello with his arms thrown around some black-haired kid standing in the doorway.

"Who's that?" Marc wondered out loud, but Matt answered for him.

"Emil," he said softly, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Emil, I can't believe you're here, I missed you so much!" Mello cried happily, jumping down from the boy's neck.

"Happy to see you, too," the other boy laughed, thoroughly amused.

Emil had changed quite a bit, Matt noticed. His hair had grown a bit, with sideswept bangs concealing part of his face. In addition, he'd grown at least two inches taller, now at equal height with Matt.

"Matt's happy to see you, too, right Matt?" Mello said, turning to give Matt a look that said 'agree or die'.

It wasn't that hard to agree; it _was_ rather nice seeing the boy. Even so, it didn't exactly _thrill_ Matt to see Mello practically throw himself on the other boy.

"Yeah." Matt managed a smile. "It's been a while."

"Yep. And check out what I did last week!" he grinned and pointed directly above his right eye, where both Matt and Mello could see a thin, silver, eyebrow ring.

"Hm. Seems like something I do," Alex commented.

"Wow!" Mello regarded it in amazement. "That's so cool!"

Emil looked pleased. "I'm getting my tongue pierced in another week."

"Don't say that, now _he'll_ want one," Matt sighed.

"Shut up," Mello said, though Matt could see the mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"I had a lip ring myself," Alex said proudly, pointing to said lip, that was now vacant of any piercings. "But Marc did not let me keep it." He sighed and regarded the man, who simply rolled his eyes.

"I don't approve," he responded simply.

"Let me get this straight," Matt said. "You'll let your fifteen-year-old unlicensed nephew _drive_, but you won't let a seventeen-year-old boy wear a lip ring?"

"I find body jewelry utterly tacky," Marc replied.

"So is black nail polish and eyeliner that would make Bill Kaulitz jealous. But he gets to keep that," Matt protested.

"I have limits," Marc explained. "Anyway..." he ignored the three boys and regarded the one in the doorway. "You must be Emil." He smiled. "I've heard about you from the two of them." He nodded towards Matt and Mello.

"Oh yes, it's nice to meet you," Emil replied. He then turned to Alex, who was no doubt waiting for someone to translate or explain the German conversation currently taking place. "And you must be Alex," he said, and for the first time, Matt was shocked to hear him speaking in English. His accent...Matt couldn't place it. It definitely wasn't German or French, but it wasn't the accent of a native English speaker either. "Mello told me about you."

For a moment, even Alex seemed shocked. "Uh...yes."

They all headed into the living room, Mello clinging to Emil's arm and chattering in German the entire way, so fast that even Matt had trouble understanding him. He tried to control the surge of jealousy he felt watching them, as they all sat on the two sofas in the den.

"They seem to be good friends, huh?" Alex commented, sitting down beside Matt across from the other two boys.

"Yeah, I guess..." he kept his eyes on Emil and Mello, watching them in what was probably too possessive a manner for his own good.

"They haven't seen each other for a long time. Don't be so jealous." He laughed, and Matt elbowed him in the ribs, quickly looking away.

"I'm not jealous. I just..."

"You don't like Emil, do you?" Alex guessed.

"No, I like him, but..." He lowered his voice slightly. "He likes Mello."

"Oh, I get it..." The blond grinned. "Mello seems to like him, too..."

"Shut up!" Matt replied, hitting Alex once more. "That's not true!"

"But...it bothers you, doesn't it?"

Matt shrugged, trying to appear indifferent. "I don't know. Maybe."

As they became absorbed in their own conversation, neither of them noticed Emil glancing their way every now and then, fully understanding every word they said.

Mello wondered why Emil seemed to be on edge with the other two boys speaking near them. Sure they couldn't understand them, but it wasn't as if they could be saying anything really important. And Alex didn't know German, so Mello wasn't worried about the other boy overhearing he and Emil. Yet the other boy seemed perturbed about something.

"What is it?" he asked Emil, a few minutes into the conversation.

"Huh? What d'you mean?" the other boy replied, turning his attention abruptly back to the blond in front of him.

"You keep glancing over there. It doesn't matter what they're saying. You're here to pay attention to _me_, remember?"

Emil grinned. "Sorry, forgot." He ignored the two others in the room after that.

"So how long are you staying?" Mello asked.

"She said I could stay for the rest of the summer," Emil answered happily. "But forget about that." He looked carefully at Mello. "How have you been?" His eyes demanded of Mello to tell the truth, and not the lie that the blond truly desired to tell.

"I've been good. Last night was..."

"Was what?" Emil persisted.

"We had a fight, but it was nothing big. We're fine now," Mello replied hastily, not meeting the other boy's eyes.

"Mello..." Emil said warningly.

"Fine, fine." Mello sighed, and glanced over at Matt, who was talking to Alex and didn't appear to be paying any attention. Nonetheless, for safety's sake, he spoke in his native dialect, praying that Matt wouldn't understand it in contrast with official German. "We had a fight."

"Physical?"

"Wh- I didn't say that!" Mello protested.

"Your eyes tell me everything, you idiot," Emil said, and Mello noticed he'd picked up the Berlinerisch dialect as well. "What happened? EVERYTHING."

"We just got into an argument, and we ended up on the floor. That's as physical as it got. He didn't...hit me, if that's what you're wondering. He isn't like that!" Mello's voice started to shake. "It doesn't matter, we made up afterwards, and everything is fine. He felt really bad about it, you should've heard him."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Emil demanded angrily. "As soon as it happened, you should've called me!"

"I knew you'd only get angry. And besides, like I said, we made up! It doesn't matter!" Mello protested.

"It does matter, because I wanna kill the little prick!" Emil retorted. "He has no right to ever lay a hand on you! Ever!"

"Please don't be angry..." Mello pleaded. "We're fine, now. We even slept in the same bed last night, for one of the first times since we've been fighting. It was nice. Everything's back to normal, really."

Emil snorted. "Sure, sure. I swear to God if he touches you again, I'll kill him. Understand?"

"Ja," Mello replied meekly.

Emil started to retort, but at that moment he froze, as Alex said something that apparently caught his attention.

"...And why haven't you two had sex yet? You both want it. Honestly, Matt. You're such an idiot."

A funny look crossed Emil's face at that moment, and Mello didn't understand why. However he then turned back to him and hesitated, as though thinking over something. "Say, Mello..." he began at last. "Have you and Matt...had sex?"

"Hm?" Mello blinked, and then sighed. "No. He won't."

"What d'you mean he won't?" Emil replied in disbelief.

"He says the time isn't right, but I dunno why the hell he's being so stubborn. He said it was because he wanted our first time to be perfect, or whatever. But I dunno..." he heaved another depressed sigh.

"He _is_ an idiot," Emil said, shaking his head. "So you two haven't...?"

Mello shook his head. "No, never."

Not so much to Mello's surprise, Emil seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. "I'm sorry, it's just...the thought of him...and you...it makes me sick." He shot a disgusted look Matt's way.

"I know," Mello responded. "You know, you should find someone you really like, too, Emil."

"I have," the other boy replied.

Mello rolled his eyes. "Besides me."

"Sorry, right, you should've been clearer with that request."

"Emil, you know what I meant," Mello sighed.

"Yeah, so?"

"Stop being an ass," Mello said flatly.

Before Emil could say anything else, footsteps approached the room and everyone was immediately quiet as Marc walked into the room. He took one look around and laughed.

"What? Don't stop talking just because I'm here. Or are you speaking of something you don't want me to overhear?" he raised an eyebrow, and every single boy blushed a deep red. "Anyway," he said, thoroughly amused with the reactions. "I'm going to go through some old things to sell, so I'd like some peace and quiet to do that. Why don't the four of you go to town, eat, watch a movie, something? I can take you and Mello, Matt. I could to some extent take you, Mello, and Alex in here all the time. But please, for the love of _GOD_, now that there are four of you, go somewhere," he said desperately.

"That sounds good to me," Alex and Emil said at the same time, and Mello glanced at Matt.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he reasoned.

"Fine," the redhead sighed. "Seeing as Marc is so adamantly desperate to get rid of us, I'll go." He gave a sigh and stood up, Alex following suit.

"Ah, and perfect – Alex has his permit, he can drive!" Marc said brightly.

"Even then, he needs a licensed driver in the car," Matt reminded him, even though he knew it was of little use.

"And personally," Mello whispered to Emil, "I'd feel safer with Matt driving."

Nonetheless, the four of them ended up walking around town until the late afternoon. Alex had insisted upon shopping, Mello had insisted upon food, and Emil -to Mello's amazement and Matt's horror- had scouted out a potential tattoo parlor that offered tongue piercings.

"So where do you want to go, Matt?" Mello asked, clinging to the other boy's arm. "It's your turn to choose."

"I don't care. This is for you three," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"There must be somewhere," Mello reasoned. "Anywhere, come on!"

Matt rolled his eyes, stopping to think for a minute. Finally, apparently deciding something, he spoke. "Fine. You wanna know where?" He grinned and wheeled Mello around to face the building to their left. "Right in _there_."

He dragged Mello up to the bar, with Emil and Alex following willingly behind, Emil hovering over Mello like a hawk. Matt almost felt like he was babysitting the other boy's child, the way he stayed glued to their side with the air that he would murder Matt were he to harm Mello in any shape form or fashion.

"You," he told the surprised blond. "Pick something to drink."

"You mean I get to drink alcohol!" Mello said brightly, his eyes immediately sparkling. Emil simply crossed his arms and was silent.

"Sure," Matt smiled. "Whatever you want."

"Yay! I want that wine that we had before. You know, the stuff in Marc's weinkeller!"

"Alright." Matt happily turned to the bartender and ordered two of the same drink, before turning to Alex and Emil. "Well? Order up."

"I'm not drinking," Emil said flatly. "Someone has to drive all of us back home."

"Fine." Matt shrugged, as Alex joined them at the bar and ordered his own drink. He felt Emil's breath in his ear a second later.

"I swear to God if you take advantage of or so much as hurt him in any way while he's drunk, I'll rip you apart from the inside out, do you understand?" Emil threatened.

"Phfft. Somebody's jealous," Matt commented, taking a rather large gulp of the drink the bartender had set in front of him.

"I'm trusting you, to take care of him. Screw it up, and I'll kill you."

"Okay, Gods..." Matt muttered. "You asked me what I wanted to do, and this is it."

"You know Marc will be pissed if we take you home drunk," Mello commented, yet still taking large sips of his own drink.

"Hey, he's the one who said to go out and have fun. It's his own damn fault if I'm plastered when I come back," Matt replied.

"So you're doing this to throw his trust in you right back in his face?" the blond said.

"You make it sound so black and white," Matt said. "I didn't mean it that bluntly."

Mello thought for a minute, setting his glass down and looking around. "You know those chick flick movies that come on, where all the teenagers in the movie can just do whatever they want, and go out partying all the time, and more than half of them end up dead, pregnant, or on drugs? And the whole movie, you just have this miserable depressed feeling because all of them are so screwed up... You know...I feel like I'm in one of those movies right now!"

All four boys exchanged a glance, and then laughed.

"Wow, so you're saying that we're all either going to wind up dead, pregnant, or on drugs, huh?" Emil said.

"I wanna be the pregnant one!" Mello piped up.

"And Alex is already on drugs," Matt commented, and Alex rolled his eyes.

"And Matt is about to be dead if he does not shut up," he replied.

"Seriously, though, Matt," Emil said. "Take a few drinks, and let's go. It's getting late, and I'm not dragging you home, got it?"

"Oh, lighten up," he said, waving a hand in the air. "Have some fun."

"Right, you're one to talk," Mello laughed. "Is the only time you 'lighten up' when you're drunk?" he asked.

Matt ignored him and took another gulp, nearly emptying the glass. After a few more, he'd had enough alcohol that he was swaying slightly in his seat. The drink was slightly bitter, but after his first two glasses, he stopped noticing.

Looking over beside him, he could see that Mello seemed equally plastered. He was spinning around on the bar stool, giggling, and occasionally stopping to refill his glass or hang on Matt.

If Alex was drunk, however, he wasn't showing it, though he did seem to be having increasing difficulty speaking English, and finally just gave up and used French. Matt was slightly displeased with the ironic fact that the only one of them even legally allowed to drink was the one who was drinking the least. Other than Emil, who stood silently, disapproving, the entire time. Mello had taken to swinging on him when Matt had casually shoved him off, and Matt could see the growing annoyance on the other boy's face: more so because Mello was only doing it due to the alcohol, and less because of the fact the the blond was actually giving him affection. Finally, he deemed it time to go.

"Alright. We're leaving." He supported the giggling Mello with one arm and pulled Matt off his stool with the other. "Come on."

"But we're just now having fun!" Mello protested, his words slurring slightly before he fell into another fit of giggles. "I feel so great!" he laughed.

"Yeah, don't be such a kill joy," Matt said huskily, trying half-heartedly to escape Emil's grip and failing as Emil pulled the two of them to the door.

"Alex, aide-moi, s'il te plaît," Emil ordered, and the other boy immediately scrambled up to support Matt. All of them were too drunk to even notice or ask why the other boy was speaking French.

Emil drove, with Alex in front, while the other two boys practically passed out in the back seat. They would occasionally make sporadic noises, like giggling or -in Mello's case- rolling down the window and howling to the sky, but otherwise remained silent.

It was dark by the time they arrived home, and Emil dragged Mello out of the car while Alex took care of Matt, who had slumped over and passed out halfway home. As they entered the house, they didn't hear anything downstairs, so assumed Marc was upstairs in his study. This was a stroke of luck on their part. The four of them sneaked upstairs to the bedroom, and Alex laid Matt's limp body on the bed, where he moaned a little and rolled over.

Emil -taking as much advantage of the situation that he could- sat down on the sofa in the room and allowed Mello to rest in his lap, throwing a blanket over both of them. The blond's head rested motionless on his chest, his eyes closed and an arm draped limply across Emil's body.

Alex stood for a minute, rather dazed, and then collapsed on the bed beside Matt. After a few minutes, all four of them were asleep.

XxX

The next morning, Matt woke up with an ear-splitting headache.

It felt as if the whole room were spinning, and he quickly closed his eyes, waiting for the nauseous feeling to pass. He didn't hear anything apart from the light snoring of someone beside him in the bed, but each small noise felt like it was splitting his head wide open. He gave a pain-ridden moan and put his hands over his ears, silently pleading for it to stop.

Just as the nausea finally ceased, and the migraine dissipated slightly, he heard a voice in his ear. "Leve-toi."

Too hung over to even tell who it was, Matt didn't move. He then felt a pair of hands reach underneath him and lift him up carefully, reactivating his nausea. The person gently pulled him up and next second Matt could feel his head hit a particularly soft pillow, and a cool rag being placed on his forehead.

"Arrête..." Matt irritably swatted at the anonymous hand.

"Ne me dis pas d'arrêter," the voice replied. "Avale ces pilules." They took Matt's hand and pressed what felt like two small pills in his palm.

"C'est quoi?" Matt muttered, as he did as he was instructed and swallowed them.

"Tylenol. Pour le mal à la tête." Then the voice came from the end of the bed, to someone else. "Toi. Leve-toi !"

"Aïe!" Someone jumped in the bed as though they'd been kicked.

"Leve-toi, et aide-moi. Tout de suite !" the voice ordered.

"O-oui..." a garbled voice came next, and the weight on the end of the bed disappeared completely.

It was then that Matt recognized Marc was the one who had been speaking.

"Merde!" he tried to sit up in bed, but his pounding head forced him back down.

"Reste là!" Marc said. "I am _very_ disappointed with all of you!"

"You're the one who said to go ahead and have fun," Matt muttered.

"So that gives you the right to go and get _drunk_?" Marc exclaimed. "Matt, you could have crashed!"

"Emil drove. He was sober," Matt replied.

"I know. He was the _only_ one!" Marc said. "What the hell, Matt! I trust you, and this is how you repay me!"

"Aïe...quit yelling!" Matt moaned, raising a hand to his head again.

"I will yell all I want! This is exactly what you deserve!" He sighed. "I thought you two had already learned your lesson."

"Yeah, well, maybe not." Matt opened his eyes and blinked at the sunlight. Marc had been courteous enough to close the curtains, but that didn't lessen the headache it caused.

"I don't understand, Matt," Marc said, standing before the bed with his arms crossed. "I give you freedom, I let you do what you want, I give you what is pretty much unlimited trust... and this is what you do with that?"

Matt could feel a sinking feeling of guilt in his stomach, and he shifted uncomfortably in the bed. "I'm sorry," he muttered, unable to meet his uncle's eyes.

"I thought that when you and Mello got drunk the first time, that it would be the last. I thought I made it very clear that such actions were not permitted. Am I going to actually have to start punishing you for that to get across?" Marc said exasperatedly.

"What about Alex? He was drinking, too," Matt replied, pointing to the bathroom across the hall, where he could hear the other boy puking.

"One, Alex is not my nephew. Two, he is the only one of you legally permitted to drink in this country. And third, I'm just as upset with him as I am with you," Marc said firmly.

"And Mello?"

Marc gave an irritated sigh and stared long and hard into Matt's eyes. "I'm not pleased with either of you. I would have thought that you would be more responsible. I guess I was wrong in trusting you, Matt?"

"What about him!" Matt cried, sitting up in bed. "Aren't you wrong for trusting him, too?"

"It is not of importance about him right now! I am talking about you!" Marc yelled, immediately silencing Matt. "You are the one I put my trust in, _you_ are the one who I thought would have enough since not to go get drunk, and then come back home completely wasted! I would have held that responsibility on your shoulders, and here I find that you're the one who suggested it in the first place! The fact of the matter is, Matt, that all of you are at equal fault, but you are the one who I am most disappointed in. Because you are the last person I would have expected to do something like this. I was lenient the first time, and perhaps that was my mistake. But don't look for me to pass over this matter. You're grounded." He paused and rolled his eyes. "Not that it makes a difference to you, seeing as you never go out anyway. I really don't know how to punish you, Matt," Marc said, and Matt could hear a slight tremor in his uncle's voice. "Because nothing I do seems to make a difference. Am I supposed to ground you? Take away television? I really can't see you giving a damn about any of that. So what am I supposed to do? What possible consequence will be enough to get it through your head that you aren't supposed to do something like this?"

Matt simply averted his gaze and shrugged. "I dunno." He then looked around, as though just noticing an absence. "Where are Mello and Emil?"

"Emil left this morning. Mello is downstairs, after spending an hour in the bathroom vomiting," Marc replied. He then raised an eyebrow, walking towards the door. "You know, seeing as he's really the only thing you seem to care about, perhaps it would be a true punishment if I were to forbid you from seeing him?"

Matt's heart skipped a beat when Marc said that, but he quickly tried to calm himself. 'Seeing' could mean a lot of things, not just dating. It could mean seeing, as in looking at. Seeing physically. Not just seeing as in dating. He resisted the impulse to vomit. He tried to speak, but found that his voice was caught in the back of his throat. Marc would never do such a thing; it was beyond his realm of cruelty.

Before he could say anything, his uncle had closed the door.

XxX

Mello was sitting downstairs on the sofa, watching television, when Alex entered. His hair was messed and he wasn't wearing the thick eyeliner that Mello had already grown so accustomed to seeing on the other boy's eyes. The sad thing about it, was the other boy still looked beautiful, even without all the help.

"Tell me that you have vomited much as me," Alex moaned, sitting down on the couch and slouching forward, his head in his hands.

"Depends on how much you vomited," Mello replied, regarding the other boy with a half smile. He looked around curiously. "Where's Marc?"

Alex shrugged, not removing his head from his hands. "Last I saw him, he yelled at Matt."

"Ouch." Mello winced. "He must have been angry, huh?"

"He was furious," the other boy agreed. "I have never seen him so angry."

Mello bit his lip, thinking for a moment. "Say, Alex... Was Matt always so...?"

"Rebellious?" Alex finished, giving a dry laugh. "No." He sighed and shook his head, sitting up to lean back against the couch. "When I knew him, he never does something like this."

"Why do you think he did what he did, then?" Mello asked, turning to face Alex. "Go get drunk, and purposely do something that is going to make his uncle mad?"

"Why, you say?" Alex said, giving a small smile. "When you give someone no boundaries, they will for sure test them."

Mello's brow creased. "But...he just..."

"I know," Alex said, nodding slowly. "But last night, it was as if he said, 'you cannot trust me', 'you are an idiot'."

"...like he was just completely throwing Marc's trust at him right in his face."

"Exact," the other boy agreed.

"Seems a bit cruel, don't you think?" Mello mused.

"To Marc, yes. But...I think it might have been for good too. Marc needs to be more strict, or else Matt will just repeat events like these. He needs a..."

"...parent," Mello finished, and Alex nodded. "Marc just tries to be his friend, and that's why Matt is doing this."

Alex closed his eyes once, and then opened them again. "He may not want it now, but he needs it. Bad."

"Dammit!" Mello cried suddenly, standing up and turning to kick the couch. "I don't get it! He's so damn complex! He wants what he doesn't want, he says what he doesn't mean! Why the hell can't he just be honest for once!" he kicked the couch again, harder, and Alex stood up, ready to stop him if needed. "Why won't he just tell Marc about us!" He could feel tears well in his eyes, and he hastily wiped them away. A second later, he could feel an arm around him, and Alex gently forced him to sit down on the couch.

"I do not know all of Matt's reasons for doing what he does," he said softly. "No human is completely understandable. I am sure that even Matt does not know his reason half the time." He brushed a strand of blond hair away from Mello's tear-streaked face. "But you have to understand and accept the fact that...he is not perfect. He rarely shows emotion. When his parents died, he cried then. He cried when I left him. He cried before that, when he went through hell at school. Those were the only times I saw him emotional. Maybe it does not have so much to do with me. I think everything has affected him until now. He does not want people to get close, even his uncle, yet at the same time he _does_. What he wants more than anything is for someone to be close to again. And that person...that person is you. It must be you, Mello. You are the first person he has talked to in a year after his parents' death. He needs...time. Time to deal with everything. He has completely cut himself off from everyone. But you, you are the only one who can change that. Just...continue to stay with him. Even when it seems unbearable, I know that things will work out." The other boy's voice had become almost pleading now.

Mello was silent for a minute, staring straight ahead, but not really looking at anything. "You...you still love Matt, don't you?" he said at last.

Another pause of silence, before Alex finally replied. "Yes. I never stopped loving him." His voice was soft, sad, and for a moment Mello even felt sorry for him. "But..." Alex added, and Mello was snapped out of his reverie of pity. "He is yours now." He smiled, though it wasn't happy. "He does not belong to me anymore."

"If you loved him so much, why did you hurt him?" Mello asked.

Alex sighed deeply, and was silent for quite a while before answering. "Sometimes...one must make a decision that they do not want to make. Sometimes, to keep from hurting someone more, you have to do things that you do not want to do."

XxX

Marc still forced Matt to go outside and help during the yard sale, despite his hangover. It was part of his punishment, which -according to Marc- was still under construction. Matt knew that all it really meant was his uncle couldn't find any suitable punishment, so he just came up with things as he went. This suited Matt just fine, really. There wasn't anything his uncle could do or take away that he'd really care about.

The other two boys were just as hungover, but somehow seemed to function better, and for the life of him Matt couldn't understand why. Perhaps they'd had less to drink the night before?

Mello was unusually quiet as he and Matt arranged tables side by side that morning, as though he wasn't sure what to say, or if he even wanted to say something. Why did it make Matt feel so bad when the other boy seemed to avoid him? He was probably angry at him for last night, that had to be it. He was distributing his own punishment by refusing to talk to Matt.

Even Alex seemed more sober than usual. He'd fixed his hair and reapplied his beloved eyeliner, and was wearing a dark shirt and jeans, even in the heat. However, unlike Mello, he made cheerful conversation with Matt, as though he was trying to cheer him up. Matt wasn't sure if he appreciated this or not.

Finally, after a half hour of talking to people who drove up, and selling, and rearranging things, Mello spoke to Matt.

"...What did Marc say to you this morning when you woke up?" he asked, appearing nonchalant as he sat down beside Matt on the steps of the porch, in the shade, with a glass of water he'd poured himself.

Matt shrugged. "He was mad. He yelled. What you would expect."

"He ground you?"

"Yeah."

Mello laughed. "That'll make a big difference, huh?"

Despite himself, Matt smiled too. "Yeah, definitely."

"Look, Matt..." Mello began, staring down into his glass. "You hurt Marc, with what you did. You betrayed his trust. It was a really low thing to do."

"Hey, he was the one who said to go out. He never said what or what not to do," Matt defended.

"But by going out and doing something so utterly stupid, it was like you were just throwing his trust and faith in you right in his face. It hurt him. And I know that you don't even care." Mello sighed.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Spare me the lecture. My head is still pounding."

"It's kind of what you deserve, you know," Mello informed him.

"You were drinking, too. I don't see why all the blame is pinned on me," Matt muttered desolately.

"I'm not saying I didn't do anything wrong," Mello replied. "But you did it with the sole intention of mocking Marc."

"That wasn't my _sole_ intention," Matt corrected softly.

"He wants to be your friend, Matt. He wants to be able to trust you. He doesn't want to punish you, because he believes you're a good kid. And you _are_. But if you keep doing things like this, it's only going to cause him to be less of a friend and more of a parent. And frankly, I think that's what you need right now."

"Pffht. I don't need a parent. I didn't even have parents when mine were alive. I took care of myself from the time I turned ten years old, while they were out on business trips and at parties. I've never needed anyone, and I don't need anyone now, especially him," Matt retorted.

Silently, Mello reached over and rested a hand on Matt's shoulder. The other boy didn't even flinch. "But you do. You don't want to admit it, but you do. I think deep down...you want that. You just want to keep refusing any help that he or anyone else offers you. It's like you're trying to prove something. Like you're trying to prove that you _don't_ need help, but you do, Matt! You're _fifteen!_ Like it or not, you aren't an adult. Marc may treat you like one, but you aren't. You may be used to having no limits or boundaries, but if you keep proving that you can't be trusted, then that will all change."

"Stop acting like you know everything," Matt said, shrugging off Mello's hand and standing up, walking over to where Alex was talking to some blond girl that was looking at an old painting.

XxX

Emil showed up a while later, and Mello immediately pulled him aside before Matt could even talk to him.

"Hey, hello to you too – what is it?" Emil said, as Mello finally stopped in the main hallway of the house.

"Everything. Nothing. I don't know..." Mello said, before throwing his arms around the other boy's neck and burying his face in Emil's shoulder. "He's so damn stubborn..."

Emil gave a small smile and wrapped his arms around the blond, holding him close. "That he is. So what happened exactly?"

"I just...we just... Gods, I hate this!" He started to sob. "I want things to be like they were before! But now everything is so different... He wants to prove that he can handle everything on his own, and there's no getting through to him... J-just when I think things are alright again, something happens to change all of that!" he cried. "I-I'm tired of him acting like the victim, and acting like he doesn't care about anything! I'm beginning to think th-that he doesn't even care about _me_ anymore! All he cares about is that Marc doesn't find out we're together. And lately, I don't even know what the hell together means anymore!"

"Sh..." Emil tightened his arms around him and stroked his hair. "I know things suck right now, but it'll get better. I know it will. Just give it time, alright?" he kissed the top of the blond's head. "Every two people have problems. But you get through them, that's how every relationship works. It may take time, but it will get better. Just tell Matt he's being a bitch. He may get angry and storm off, but I guarantee you that as soon as you stop talking to him, he'll come crawling back on his hands and knees begging for your forgiveness."

Mello laughed a bit through his tears. "You think so?"

"Of course. He may be stubborn, but you're the one thing he cares about. Even if he doesn't always act like it."

"I never expected you to be defending him. I figured you would go and strangle him the minute I started crying about fighting with him," Mello said.

Emil smiled and affectionately tucked a strand of blond hair behind the other boy's ear. "Do you want me to go and strangle him?" he said comfortingly, and Mello smiled a little.

"I don't know what I want. Sometimes I just want someone to complain to, and you're the only person who will put up with my whining."

"Of course," Emil replied soothingly. "You can complain to me anytime."

For a minute, Mello was silent, simply staring at the other boy in front of him. Then, slowly, he started to lean forward, until their faces were just millimeters apart. Just before their lips came in contact, however, Emil stepped back, his hand on Mello's shoulder. "Wh-what are you doing?" he said breathlessly.

Mello looked surprised, and his gaze faltered to the floor. "I-I thought you wanted..."

The other boy laughed, slightly hysterical. "Mello, I want that more than anything in the entire world and would sell my mother's soul for it." He paused. "But I don't want this to just be because you're upset with Matt. Okay?"

His eyes still on the floor, Mello nodded. "Yeah. Sorry, I uh – I don't know what I was thinking..." he stopped. "Actually, yes, I do know what I was thinking." He looked back up at Emil. "I was thinking that I'm sick of not receiving any affection from him, and you're the only other person I know who I could get it from..." he laughed, as though amused with himself. "God, I'm more pathetic than I thought. As soon as Matt and I have trouble, I turn to my best friend. What the hell is the matter with me?"

"You aren't pathetic," Emil consoled. "You're upset. You just need time to think, and you and Matt should talk, okay?"

Mello nodded, wiping the dry tear stains from his face. "Yeah... Sorry, for..."

"Let's get something straight, okay?" Emil said, looking straight into Mello's face. "_Never_ be sorry that you were about to kiss me. _Ever_." He smiled. "But don't do it because I'm just a second option."

"Right." Mello nodded again.

"Now. Go out there, and forget about Matt until he's ready to talk to you, alright? If you keep clinging on him, he won't be as pathetic when he comes to apologize. The only way to get him to cling to you is to pretend that you don't need him. Got it?"

Mello laughed. "Got it."

Emil paused for a minute, and moved as though he wanted to lean forward slightly, but caught himself and gave a faltering smile. "Come on, we should go outside." He turned away and headed out the door, Mello following slowly behind.

XxX

That night, taking Emil's advice to ignore Matt until he was ready to apologize, Mello walked downstairs to the living room, where Alex was sitting on the couch, eating junk food and watching television. At this point, Mello couldn't help but be glad that the other boy was staying with them. At least he had someone to talk to now, when he and Matt were fighting.

"Hey, what're you watching?" Mello asked, sitting down beside him on the couch and opening a coke. "And more importantly, do you even understand what they're saying?" he raised an amused eyebrow.

"Family Guy," Alex replied. "And not a word," he added proudly. "But I watched it back home, so I remember enough of what they are saying that I can understand what goes on."

"I see." Mello resisted a laugh. "So why'd you move here, anyway? I doubt your mom knew German, either?"

"No, she did not," Alex replied. "But she heard people here spoke English anyway, so she figured it would not be a very big problem."

"So...why the move?"

"Oh, she wanted to get away from France. She hated it there, but never would really tell me why exact. But I figure it was because she knew a friend here who sold drugs. Figured she would get a better deal here." He shrugged. "Little of importance."

"Do you miss your mom, then?" Mello asked.

Alex shrugged again. "Sure, I suppose. But she is not really someone you would miss, you know?"

"Yeah, believe me," Mello answered dryly. "So have you...been in foster homes?"

"A few," Alex replied.

"And...how were they?"

"Okay." Alex looked over at Mello, his expression holding a bit of sympathy. "They never feel just like home. They cannot. But...they are not completely horrible. At least, then, you would have a family that cares about you. I know it is not home, and it is not your real family. But think long and hard... would it really be any worse than what you go through now?" he asked softly.

Mello did think, long and hard. He thought about all the times his mother had burned him, hit him, scarred him, chased him around the house and forced him to hide in the bedroom for fear of being stabbed to death by the knife she was chasing him with. Really, how much worse could a foster home be?

"It is scary, I will not say that it is not. It is one of the scariest things you will ever have to experience. But after a while, you get used to it. It gets better," Alex assured him. "And most of the families, they are nice. They try and make you feel at home."

"I just...I don't know," Mello said, trying to will away the hot tears forming in his eyes. "I-I am scared. A lot," he admitted.

"That is normal," Alex said, putting an arm around his shoulders. "But for people like us, sometimes living with another family is our best chance. We have to be able to get through things like that. We have to help ourselves before other people can."

"I...I guess you're right," Mello replied, giving a small sigh. "It just scares me to death, anytime I think about living somewhere that isn't home...to live with strangers..."

"I know. It is a terrible and lonely feeling." Alex shook his head. "To feel so hopeless and alone and like no one understands you. But there is always at least one person...one person that you can rely on, whether they understand what you go through or not. And as long as you have that person, who cares about you, you can endure whatever life throws at you."

Mello nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

"Does living with strangers really scare you more than your own home does at this point?" Alex asked.

For the first time, something clicked. Wasn't it true that home terrified him more than anything? His own mother was his worst fear, so much so that he had constant nightmares. What could be worse than that?

"Just...think about it, okay?" Alex suggested gently. "There is no reason for an immediate decision."

"Y-yeah, you're right," Mello said. "I-I'll think about it."

"Good." Alex smiled, and then gave sigh. "Now, what the HELL are they saying on here?" he said with a laugh, nodding towards the television.

XxX

_He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, his breathing elevating even further. There was a sense of adrenaline in the air, the feeling of being chased. Turning around every way, he could see nothing. The house was silent._

_ And then he saw her face, looming from the bottom of the stairs, and his heart gave a jolt. The knife in her hand glinted slightly against the light of the ceiling lamp as she began to march up the stairs, shouting. "KOMMST HIER!"_

_ Not even registering where he was going, he turned around and blindly ran into the first room he came to, slamming and locking the door behind him. Trying to slow down his rapid breathing, he turned and regarded the room he'd trapped himself in._

_ It was the bathroom._

_ As he heard her footsteps come nearer, his heart set to racing again, and he climbed quickly into the bathtub, knowing that it would do him little good. He crouched down inside the porcelain tub and covered his ears tightly with his already scarred hands. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to picture himself away, to shut out everything around him. It did no good. Her shouting still broke through his thoughts and he cringed against the side of the bathtub as the doorknob began to rattle, and she started pounding on the wood._

_ It wouldn't hold out long. It couldn't. It never did._

_ He sunk down low against the cold porcelain, the feeling of hopelessness overpowering his fear. He could just die here. It would be so much easier. No running, no fighting, no being afraid anymore. He could do that. He could just wait here, and he would certainly die. How simple it would be..._

_ But no. He couldn't do that. He suddenly wanted to live, very much, more than anything. More than he'd ever wanted to live before. But why? What did he have to live for? He knew there was something, some reason he had to stay alive. But what was it? He didn't know what. All he knew was that he had to live. No matter what, he had to live._

_ This mere knowledge was enough to make him scramble out of the tub and head to the small window located on the wall of the second-story bathroom. He opened and looked down towards the ground in dismay. It was impossible. He'd break his neck trying to climb down from here; it was more than a twenty foot drop. Yet..._

_ He quickly looked around outside, noticing a drainpipe extending from the roof to the ground, just feet from the window. If he could just reach out and grab on to that..._

_ Somehow, he managed. He wasn't aware of how he did it, or how long it took. All he knew was that next second, he was on the ground, running blindly towards whatever his destination was. He just had to escape. That was all he could think of. He had to escape. _

_ The darkness swelled around him, and he could scarcely see the ground before him. Where had all the lights gone? And all the houses? He was suddenly out in the country, but how? Where was he?_

_ He didn't know where._

_ He didn't know anything._

_ Suddenly, lights were all around him. It was bright. It smelled. He was standing on a linoleum floor, not dirt. Not ground. He was inside, not outside. But where? Where was he? As his eyes adjusted, he saw people, all around. They were sitting in various chairs scattered along the room, and a desk was to his left, with some woman talking on the phone. It smelled. It smelled so awful._

_ He realized he was in the hospital._

_ But why?_

_When? When had he come here? Why? Why was he here?_

_ A warm drop on his hand the next second caused him to look down, where he could see a bright red drop of blood on his hand. Fear flooding his body, he reached up and touched his side. It suddenly hurt. It hurt a lot._

_ He pulled up his shirt._

_ On the side of his stomach, there was an open gash, blood slowly leaking from the wound. It wasn't stopping._

_ But how? Why? He hadn't gotten hurt. How had this happened?_

_ He suddenly felt very faint. He was falling, falling..._

Mello sat bolt upright, cold sweat drenching his back and his heart pounding against his chest. Tears were streaking his face, and he was shaking uncontrollably, his whole body ablaze with fear that he couldn't account for.

Then, he saw someone to his right. He didn't know who, he didn't care who. He simply threw his arms around them and started sobbing, out of relief or sadness, or something else, he didn't know. He felt a pair of surprised arms wrap around him and pull him close, and someone was stroking his hair.

There was a name. There was a name he wanted to call. But he couldn't remember it. He wanted to scream it so badly, but he couldn't remember it. What was the name?

He suddenly heard a voice, but it was in another language; French, maybe? He couldn't tell. He was so confused. Perhaps he was still dreaming. The voice was concerned, worried; they were talking to the person holding him. Then, he could feel someone else pull him away from the person holding him. His first instinct was to cling to them and refuse to be pulled away, but something told Mello that he wanted this person to take them, that he wanted them to hold him instead.

The other person pulled him away and wrapped their arms around him, supporting his weight as Mello turned and buried his face in their shoulder, still sobbing, though not as hysterically. Then the name came to him, suddenly, and he sobbed even harder. The name he wanted to call, the name, the name that had caused him to climb out the window in his dream.

"Matt..." he sobbed, tightening his arms around the other boy's neck.

"Sh...it's alright, I'm here," the other boy said softly, holding Mello close against him.

"Qu'est-ce qu'il a? Il va bien?" came another voice; Mello was too distraught too recognize it.

"Oui, oui, il va bien. Tout va bien," Matt replied quickly. He then turned his attention to Mello, sitting down on the couch. "Vas-y, s'il te plaît," he said to someone else, and Mello could feel someone stand up and leave to his right.

Mello continued to cling to Matt, not wanting to let go. His sobs had quieted slightly, but he was still whimpering. Matt simply held him, stroking his hair and whispering comfortingly in his ear. When Matt attempted to detach the blond's arms a few minutes later, however, Mello only clung on tighter. "Please, please don't leave..." he pleaded.

"Sh...I'm not going to leave. I promise. I'm going to stay right here..." Matt swore, kissing the top of the other boy's head. Realizing that Mello probably wouldn't let go, Matt leaned back against the sofa and pulled Mello into his lap, the blond's head resting on his chest as he held the other boy in his arms. He sighed slightly as Mello's crying ceased to a mere whimper again. "I don't suppose you want to tell me what the dream was about?"

Suddenly, Mello _did_ want to tell him. He wanted to confess and confide in him and let him know exactly what he dreamed about. He opened his mouth, but no noise came out. How badly he wanted to speak, but no words would form.

"M-my mother..." he managed to sob at last. "She, uh, she would, uh..."

"She would what?" Matt prompted gently, brushing hair away from the other boy's face.

Mello sobbed again, his arms wrapped tightly around Matt. "Sometimes, when she had too much to drink... Sh-she would, uh, ch-chase me around the house, w-with a knife or something. I w-would hide in the bathroom, because it was the only room that locked. Sometimes, it would be an hour. Sometimes it would be th-three." He took a deep breath. "I was always terrified, b-because I just knew that she would kill me if she c-caught me..." He trailed off, his bottom lip trembling as he fought to control his sobs.

Matt was silent, and Mello couldn't see his face, but assumed that the other boy was in shock.

"M-Mello..." Matt said at last, his voice shaking. "Gods, I-I'm so sorry..." He shook his head and held the blond tighter.

"Wh-what are _you_ sorry for?" Mello asked softly.

"I h-had no idea how bad things were... Why didn't you...?" He stopped, apparently guessing the answer. "Mello, no one should have to go through that! G-gods..." the blond could hear a sob above him as Matt's voice grew high-pitched.

"Wh-what...you're crying?" Mello raised up and looked at Matt, who had tears in his eyes.

"I-I can't stand the thought that you go through something that awful. It scares me half to death. H-how can I just let you go back there, knowing that this kind of thing happens!" he cried. "I would be worried sick!"

"You...you would really be that worried about me?" Mello asked softly.

"Of course!" Matt gave a weak smile. "I love you." He pulled Mello against him again, burying his face in the other boy's soft blond hair.

Mello sniffed and closed his eyes, breathing deeply as he rested against Matt's chest. "Say, Matt...will you tell me something, now? I've told you something, now I want you to be honest with me."

"O-okay..." Matt agreed. "What is it?"

"What exactly happened in France? I mean, I know you said people abandoned you, but...what exactly went on?"

Matt gave a deep sigh, and didn't answer for a few minutes. "I suppose it's only fair for me to explain." He paused and rested his chin on the blond's head. "Back in France, when everyone found out, I was terrified. All of my friends suddenly didn't want to be seen with me, or have anything to do with me. It was like I was some sort of plague that everyone was afraid of. People would write things about me in the bathrooms. They would spread rumours. They would whisper when they saw me in the hall, trip me, throw snide comments my way when the teachers weren't looking. I tried to keep it a secret, but everyone just knew. Rumours got around, enough people spread them, and everyone eventually figured it out. Eventually, it did no good denying it. People would only mock me."

"Sort of...like what happened to Emil at camp last summer?" Mello mused quietly.

"Yes," Matt replied. "You have no idea how cruel people can really be. I can't tell you how many lockers I was slammed into. After a while, I just gave up. I let them do whatever they want to me. I just didn't care anymore, because I hated myself so much and I thought I deserved it."

"Back at camp, though, with those boys..." Mello trailed off.

"When you told me how you felt, you were scared. Just like I was. I...I didn't want the same thing to happen to you. I would never want you to have to go through the things I did. Maybe I told you I'd never lied about it so that I would appear stronger than I really was. Honestly, you had more courage than I ever did. I could have never stood up and told everyone how I felt like you did."

"But you did," Mello argued.

"To protect you."

"I don't need your protecting," the blond mumbled.

"When you act ashamed, then the torture only gets worse. They know that it gets to you, because you try to hide it, and you don't defend yourself. I was always the meek, quiet kid that didn't protest when I ended up with a bloody nose after school simply because some people were intolerant. But I didn't want you to be like that."

"I'm only like that because of what you told me last year," Mello informed him.

"I know. And I wanted you to stand up for yourself. I believed everything I told you, even though I've never quite acted on it. I didn't want you to be ashamed."

"But...you are?" Mello questioned.

Matt sighed. "I was. But, after Alex...I think I understood that I shouldn't be. Mello, I'm not ashamed that I love you. Never think that I am. Just because I'm not quite ready to tell Marc, or kids at school...I'm not ashamed of it. I just..."

"It's okay. I know," Mello told him. "I get it." He smiled slightly. "Tell Marc whenever you're ready."

"Thank you." Matt pulled Mello's head up to face him and pressed his lips against the other boy's. "Please just be patient with me, alright?"

"Of course." Mello returned the kiss, a little more forcefully. "But will you answer something else for me? And be honest, please?"

"Uh, okay. What is it?" Matt asked.

"Do you still have feelings for Alex?" Mello asked, looking Matt straight in the eye. "Even if just a little, do you still have some feelings for him?"

Matt's gaze faltered slightly, as he gave another sigh before looking back up at the blond. "...Yes. I won't deny that there are some feelings deep down that were never resolved when we broke up. But none of that matters now, because my feelings for you are more than that. Anything I may still feel for Alex isn't important. After what he did to me, I could never completely forgive him."

"Okay," Mello said simply, shrugging his shoulders. "That's all I wanted to know."

"Are you angry with me?" Matt asked.

To his surprise, the other boy smiled. "Of course not. How can I be angry with you for being honest? I'd be more upset if you lied to me."

"I'm sorry I've been such a jerk lately. I guess I'm just stressed. But I know that is no excuse."

"I understand." Mello kissed him gently on the forehead. "Just be honest with me, okay? I want to be able to trust you." His gaze steadied. "And Marc too."

Matt sighed, and rolled his eyes at the mention of his uncle. "Okay, fine."

"I love you, Matt," Mello said.

"Je t'aime aussi," Matt replied, taking Mello in his arms again.

"Say...do you think you could teach me French sometime?" Mello asked curiously.

Matt shrugged. "Sure, why not?" He laughed. "Why do you want to learn all of a sudden anyway?"

Mello blushed a little, but Matt couldn't see. "Well, I just...I'd like to be able to talk to you in French, sometimes. I think it'd be...kinda romantic. French _is_ the language of love, after all."

"Ah, I see," the other boy laughed. "I suppose I could teach you a few phrases. What do you want to learn?"

"I dunno..." Mello replied, blushing again. He smiled a second later. "How do you say 'fuck you'?"

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You aren't planning to say that to anyone in particular, are you?" he asked knowingly.

"Of course not," Mello replied. "...Just Alex."

Matt sighed. "It's kind of hard to translate that... But I suppose the closest would be '_va te faire foutre_'."

"Jesus, I didn't ask for a whole fucking paragraph to cuss someone out!" Mello cried.

"It's only four words," corrected Matt with an amused smile.

"Still, that's two more than the two it takes in English or German."

"Then why don't you pick something easily translatable?" Matt suggested.

Mello yawned. "Can we go to bed now? I'm tired."

"Sure. Get up and we'll go to the bedroom."

"But I don't feel like moving. I'm warm," Mello protested, snuggling closer against the other boy.

Matt simply sighed. "Fine." He wrapped his arms loosely around the blond and closed his eyes. "Bonne nuit."

"...what's that mean again?" Mello asked.

"Good night," Matt whispered.

"Oh. Bonne nuit, then." Mello smiled and closed his eyes. "Ich liebe dich."

Matt's voice was slightly faint with fatigue as he answered, "Ich liebe dich auch."

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 9-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>A brief German lesson!<strong> :D

**When Emil and ****Mello**** are speaking towards the beginning of the chapter, ****they**** are speaking something called '**_**Berlinerisch**_**', which is one of the dialects spoken throughout Germany, by people in Berlin. Since Matt isn't a native German speaker, ****Mello**** figure****s**** he might not be able to understand the conversation Emil and ****he**** are having since Berlinerisch is different from **_**Hochdeustch**_**, the 'official' language of Germany. Not too different, I suppose, but ****he's**** just hoping luck will be on ****his**** side and he won't be able to understand completely.**

**I**** would like to thank Aysa-Millana for this particular information on Germany! :D (she's also the one who told ****me**** the age for drinking, and driving). Thanks again, Aysa-chan! **


	10. Impulse

**I uploaded this early for all of you because you're so wonderful~ (:**

**Also, I changed my pen-name, so it's now "Kakkujapojat". Uber random, google translate helped. I think it sounds cool, ja?**

**I also have a poll up on my profile now (I meant to put it up earlier but forgot I'd wanted it there), so feel free to leave your vote, either before or after you read this chapter!**

* * *

><p>Kapitel 10<br>**Chapter 10**

Impuls  
>"<strong>Impulse"<br>**_Impulsion_

* * *

><p>Mello was still asleep in Matt's lap when he woke up the next morning, and for a minute, Matt simply stayed where he was; eyes closed, holding the other boy close as he had been the previous night. His neck was slightly stiff from the way he'd fallen asleep, and he moved a little to be more comfortable. The blond seemed to be sound asleep, his deep breathing the only sound in the room. Matt listened for a while, slightly relaxed by the presence of the other boy. He honestly wanted nothing more than to lay there and go back to sleep for a few more hours. However, his growing hunger refused to allow him that sanctity. Carefully, he moved Mello over to lay beside him and pulled himself off of the couch. It was only eight o'clock, plenty early enough for breakfast, so he headed towards the kitchen.<p>

Alex was already present when he arrived in the kitchen, eating a Pop-tart and drinking a soda; a combination -had it been anyone else- that Matt would have been proud of.

"Hey," the blond said, glancing up as Matt entered and went over to the pantry to get a snack, since he didn't feel like cooking.

Matt didn't reply as he took a seat across from the other boy, unwrapping his own Pop-tart and opening the soda he'd grabbed from the fridge.

It was obvious that his cold attitude annoyed the other boy, or even possibly bothered him. "So you're not going to talk to me, is that it? Just ignore me and pretend I'm not here?" Alex questioned, watching Matt carefully.

"That's the plan," Matt replied, still not looking up. Actually, it hadn't been the plan until just then, when Alex had mentioned it.

Alex sighed. "Can't we just put the past behind us?" he almost pleaded.

"I can't just forget something like that, you know," the redhead replied icily.

"Please," Alex said. "I want to talk to you again. Like we used to, you know?" He said quietly, and kept his eyes focused on his hands this time.

"Whatever." Matt shrugged.

Rolling his eyes, Alex simply attempted to change the subject. "How's Mello? He seemed pretty upset last night."

"He's fine. It was just a nightmare," Matt replied nonchalantly.

"Matt, we both know that it wasn't 'just a nightmare'," Alex said knowingly.

Matt glanced up at Alex, despite himself. "What do you know?"

"I know what goes on with his mother, alright?" the other boy said, as though it was no big deal.

"He told you?" Matt asked incredulously.

"Yes, he told me," Alex answered calmly. "Does that surprise you?"

"Kind of."

"He's told me a lot of things, actually," Alex said offhandedly, picking imaginary dirt from under his black-painted fingernails.

"Really. Like what, per se?" Matt inquired, reluctant to believe such a thing.

"Like the fact that you won't have sex with him," Alex replied, popping another bit of Pop-tart in his mouth.

"It that what he told you?"

"Personally, I'm curious as to why you refuse. You practically begged for it when you and I were dating," Alex said, a small smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"It's none of your business," Matt replied snappishly, giving the other boy a harsh glare.

"Whatever." Alex mimicked Matt's indifferent shrug. "Just wondering." He pouted. "You could be a little nicer, you know."

"Shut up," Matt replied, shaking his head. "...and I did not _beg_ for it," he muttered.

Alex finished the rest of his breakfast and threw the wrapper in the trashcan nearby. "So what's up with this Emil kid yesterday, anyway?" he questioned. "I know he likes him, but is he like, Mello's ex-boyfriend or something?"

Matt cringed at the mere thought of Emil and Mello ever dating, and he took a quick drink of his soda to cover up his reaction. "No, he's not," he replied, a little too forcefully. "They're just friends."

"I see..." Alex nodded. "But...Emil likes him?" he asked again.

"Yeah," Matt sighed.

"And Mello knows this?"

"Yeah, he knows. Why?" Matt asked.

Alex shrugged. "Just curious."

"About what, exactly?" Matt wondered, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Well, I don't know... I mean, it seems they've been friends for a while. You'd think he would've chosen him, you know?" Alex said, then shrugged again. "No big deal."

Matt rolled his eyes, not particularly wanting to get involved in an explanation. "Mello didn't come out until camp last year. It wasn't until then that he found out Emil liked him. And by that time..." he trailed off, and Alex finished the sentence for him.

"...you two were already...'together', right?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Mello felt really bad about not being able to feel the same way about Emil, but he still stayed friends with him."

"He's cute," Alex commented nonchalantly, taking another sip from his soda.

"Emil?" Matt half-snorted.

Alex shrugged. "Sure, why not? He reminds me of a young Bill Kaulitz."

Matt blinked a couple times, and raised an amused eyebrow. "...right."

"So...do you two get along?"

"Eh."

Alex smiled. "I see. Rivalry, non?"

"Mostly about stuff that happened at camp. I don't think he ever quite forgave me for 'stealing' Mello away from him. Not to mention we got into a huge argument in the camp dining hall that ended with him screaming loud enough for everyone to hear that he was in love with Mello. Which...pretty much screwed him over," Matt explained.

"Ouch. That would suck," Alex replied. "So did they know that you -uh- liked guys?" he remarked, looking at Matt over the rim of his soda can.

Matt shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his chair. "It's a long story."

Alex smiled politely and folded his hands in front of him on the table. "I have plenty of time."

"What makes you think I want to tell you everything?" Matt retorted, glaring the other boy's way. He blushed when he realized that he'd pretty much given Alex the complete recite of the events at camp, without even meaning to. He silently cursed himself for being so vulnerable that he was actually tricked into talking to the other boy.

Despite Alex's best efforts to cover his reactions, Matt could tell that this comment hurt him. "Fine," he shrugged. "I just wondered."

"I don't need you prying into my life, thank you," Matt said sharply, sending a steady gaze the other boy's way. "You don't have a right to know anything." Matt wasn't quite sure why he kept being so mean, when he'd already clearly made his point that he didn't want to talk to Alex. He just kept spewing harsh comments, without even thinking about it.

"It wasn't my intention to pry," Alex said softly, with a certain air of irritation in his voice as his gaze faltered to his hands again. "I just wondered how you'd been, since..." he trailed off.

"Since you dumped me after my parents died," Matt deadpanned briskly.

Alex gave him a pleading look and shook his head. "Why do you have to make everything so black and white?"

"I don't see any other way to look at it," Matt replied tartly. "That's what happened."

"You know, I didn't do it out of the pure meanness of my heart. I had reasons," Alex informed him.

"Yeah. You were a completely selfish bastard who only cared about himself. I figured that out," Matt said in a clipped tone.

Alex suddenly stood up from the table, his hands clenched into fists. "You know what!" he said, raising his voice for the first time since he'd been speaking to Matt. "Stop acting like you're the only one who has problems! You think the whole world should feel sorry for you because your parents died, and I broke up with you, but you know what? There are kids out there with lives ten times worse than yours! At least you still have a home, and an uncle -family!- that loves you and cares what happens to you! You have it a lot better than a lot of people, so just stop the fucking pity act already!"

Too stunned to reply, Matt simply sat in his seat, staring at the other boy in disbelief, his brain too shocked to even form words to retaliate. Alex spared him the task, however, when he promptly stalked out of the room without another word.

XxX

Mello appeared a few minutes after Alex had disappeared, and stopped in the kitchen doorway when he saw Matt sitting at the kitchen table, spinning fruit from the basket in the middle for amusement.

"Something wrong?" he asked curiously, walking over and running a hand affectionately through Matt's hair.

"Nothing," Matt replied, almost monotone.

"Why won't you talk to me?" he asked softly, gently stroking the side of the other boy's face with the back of his hand.

For a minute, Matt almost felt bitter enough to reject the affection and direct all the anger he still felt after his conversation with Alex at the other boy. However, the feeling of Mello's hand brushing against his skin stopped him, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the warm feeling that spread throughout his body. He found himself relaxing as Mello's hand moved down to his neck, causing a small shiver to run through Matt. "I'm just stressed," he said softly, which was pretty much the truth anyway. He was stressed. About Alex, about his uncle, about Mello, about everything.

"Allow me to help," Mello offered, and moved to stand behind Matt, both of his hands massaging the other boy's shoulders.

Matt sighed and leaned his head back, allowing all the muscles in his body to completely relax. "Gods, you have no idea how good that feels," he said, giving a small laugh.

"Say," Mello began. "What's up with Alex? He just went upstairs and slammed his door. Something happen between you two?"

"Nothing happened," Matt said quickly, his body immediately tensing again. "We just...had a small argument, that's all."

"About what?" Mello asked curiously, still rubbing Matt's shoulders with the hope of relaxing him enough so that he'd actually talk.

Matt gave a long, heavy sigh and closed his eyes again. "I just said something that pissed him off, so he stormed out. That's all."

"You should be a little nicer to him, you know. He's been through a lot," Mello said softly.

Matt laughed. "Like what? So his mother got arrested for drugs – no one's parents are great. And big deal, he was on drugs. That's his own damn fault, you know."

"You don't know everything he's been through," Mello replied.

"And you do?" Matt asked skeptically.

Mello rolled his eyes. "You always think you're right."

"What the hell's that supposed to mean!" Matt demanded, turning around to look at the blond.

"Nothing, nothing..." Mello shook his head. "Just stop being so hard on him. Everyones makes mistakes."

"Since when are you on his side?" Matt replied snappishly.

"I'm not on sides," Mello answered calmly. "I just think you're being too mean." He cut Matt off before the redhead could retort. "I don't think he was right in what he did either, but he's apologized and tried to make amends. What more do you want from him?"

"For him to be far away from me," Matt deadpanned, and Mello simply sighed. "I don't want to have to see him, or talk to him, or anything."

"You're so stubborn," Mello said, running his fingers through Matt's hair. "He just wants another chance, that's it."

"Well he's not going to get one," Matt stated matter-of-fact.

Mello gave up and sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of the other boy's head. "Just be a little nicer, okay? That's all I'm asking."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Whatever. You don't know him, Mello. He says things that make you fall for him, and he gets you to believe whatever comes out of his mouth. That's how he gets to you. He can't be trusted."

"You just want to find the worst in everyone," Mello reasoned.

"Emil and I get along well enough, don't we?" Matt stated flatly. "And just for the record, Emil is the one who hates me. I never did anything."

"He doesn't hate you, you know," Mello replied quietly. "He's the one who keeps telling me I should be more patient with you."

This slightly surprised Matt, and for a moment he was caught off guard. "He...did?"

"Yeah," Mello nodded. "He doesn't hate you, he just..."

"Likes _you_."

"Exactly," Mello said. "It's really nothing personal."

"Sure," Matt sighed and stood up from the table. "I'm going to take a shower."

"Alright – I'm uh...going to go to Emil's for a bit, okay?" Mello said, cautiously, as though he was wary of Matt's reaction.

Matt turned around and raised an eyebrow. "And you plan to get there how?"

"He uh...is coming to pick me up," Mello replied.

"He doesn't have a license, or a permit."

The blond shrugged. "Neither did you."

Matt started to put the matter to rest, but then he turned back around and gaped at the other boy. "Wait a minute! If I'm grounded, how come you aren't!" he demanded.

"Marc never said anything to me." Mello shrugged. "Though, if you'd rather Emil just stay here..." he trailed off.

The only thing worse than the unfairness of being the only one in trouble for drinking, Matt thought, was to have Emil anywhere in the vicinity. Then again, he worried even more when he and Mello went off somewhere that Matt couldn't keep an eye on them. He debated mentally for a few moments before finally surrendering. "Fine, go." He sighed and turned back towards the doorway. "You haven't seen him for a while, after all."

Just as he stepped foot outside the doorway, Mello's voice stopped him.

"So...you're okay with it?"

Matt turned his head to regard the other boy, and shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just figured that, well... you might think...you know..." he said softly.

"I trust you and Emil," Matt replied. "He respects you too much to do something like that, so I don't worry. Besides, if you're trusting me and Alex to be alone, I should trust you and Emil," he added simply, giving another half-shrug.

The look on Mello's face at that moment informed Matt that the blond hadn't even considered that Matt and Alex would be alone together while he went out. This seemed to bother him, and for a moment, Matt was pleased, though not quite sure why. He wasn't sure why Mello should even be worried. It wasn't as if he'd even consider doing anything with Alex, especially after the fight that morning.

"...I trust you," Mello said, though it was reluctant.

"Great," Matt answered, though it came out a bit sarcastic. "I'll be in the shower. Have fun." The last sentence was slightly bitter, as he turned back and walked upstairs.

XxX

As they drove down the road, Mello could see Emil glance his way every now and then, most likely worried by the other boy's unusual silence. After a while, he decided to question it.

"What are you looking at?" Mello asked, returning the other boy's gaze.

Blushing, Emil turned his attention to the wheel. "Nothing. You're just really quiet," he said quickly. "Something wrong?"

"No, everything's fine," Mello said half-heartedly. "Just great."

The black-haired boy driving rolled his eyes. "So you're not going to talk to me now, is that it?" He sighed. "Why don't you just tell Marc yourself? It's not just Matt's decision," he informed him.

"I know that," Mello replied quietly, crossing his arms and slouching in his seat to lean against the window. "But he'd hate me."

"He'd get over it," Emil said breezily. "You need to quit letting him walk all over you, and then make you feel bad for it."

Mello shrugged. "Nothing makes a difference anymore. Why bother?"

Emil's hands tightened somewhat on the steering wheel. "Look, I've refrained from saying this simply because I don't want to sound like a complete jerk, but... Just dump his ass."

Giving a small smile, Mello simply shook his head. "I can't do that," he argued softly, looking up into the sky and closing his eyes. "I still love him."

"Don't see why," Emil muttered. "He treats you like shit."

"Everyone has fights, Emil. You told me that yourself," Mello reminded him.

"Yeah, but there's a limit," he protested. "Do you think he loves you?" he asked.

Mello was quiet for a minute, his head resting against the glass of the window. "I...I don't know." He fought the hot tears threatening to form in his eyes. "Sometimes he really is sweet, and he acts like he does. But other times..."

"Do you really think that all this has to do with that Alex kid?" Emil wondered.

"Who knows. From what I hear from Alex, Matt wasn't like this when they were together. I'm not sure if Alex is the only thing that changed him, or if other things had to do with it as well," Mello replied.

"Garnier..." Emil stifled a laugh. "Seriously?"

Despite himself, Mello managed a smile. "He's actually not so bad, once you get to know him. He just has problems, like all of us."

Emil was quiet suddenly, staring straight ahead at the road with a strange expression, like he was debating whether or not to say something. "You know..." he began slowly, glancing over at Mello. "You two look alike."

"What?" Mello laughed. "That's ridiculous."

"Not really," he said. "Blond hair, blue eyes... and you both kind of look like kids in the face..." he trailed off uncomfortably.

Mello stopped to ponder this thought for a minute, his brow furrowed. "You don't think... that might be the reason that Matt...?" he stopped, as though suddenly realizing something. He gave a dry laugh and collapsed against his seat. "Great. He likes me because I look like Shampoo-boy," he said bitterly.

"I'm sure that isn't the only reason," Emil said consolingly, as though he felt bad for even bringing up the matter. "That might be what attracted him to you at first, but I know that he fell in love with you for different reasons..."

"Like what?" Mello retorted.

"Well... you're funny, cheerful... considerate, smart, loyal..." He smiled a bit to himself. "You're likable. I think it'd be hard not to fall for you."

Mello rolled his eyes. "You're just saying that because of how you feel about me."

"That isn't true," Emil reasoned. "Other people say it, too, I hear them." He sighed and reached over to rest a hand on Mello's shoulder. "Just forget what I said, okay? It probably doesn't mean anything."

"Do you think I should be worried?" Mello wondered aloud, casting a worried glance Emil's way. "I mean, with the two of them alone together?"

Emil shrugged. "If Matt hates him as much as you say he does right now, I doubt anything will happen." He looked over at him. "Do you trust Matt?"

"I want to, I just...I just don't know anymore," Mello replied hopelessly. "You keep saying things will change, but I really don't know."

The other boy shook his head. "I agree that Matt isn't treating you right. But all of this is hard on him... Maybe once things settle with Alex being here and everything, things will get better," he suggested hopefully.

"And if not?"

Emil was silent, staring ahead at the road with a thoughtful expression. "If not, then forget him, Mello. He isn't worth it."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Mello muttered bitterly.

"Hey!" Emil sent a hurt look Mello's way. "What the hell is that supposed to mean!"

Mello sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." Leaning back in his seat, he watched the clouds shift out the window. "I guess I'm just stressed."

"Now you sound like Matt," Emil commented, and Mello laughed.

"Hm..." Mello thought for a minute. "How about we make him jealous?" He raised an eyebrow and gave his familiar mischievous grin.

"And...what would you have in mind?" Emil asked, trying to hide a smile.

"Well, he already gets jealous when he sees me act friendly around you. I'm sure that if I paid enough attention, he'd have something to say about it." He smiled a little, but then it faded. "But I wouldn't want to use you like that."

Emil laughed. "I honestly don't mind, just so you know."

"I know." Mello smiled. "But it wouldn't be fair to you."

"Say..." Emil began. "How have you been? You know, with the nightmares and everything?"

Mello was quiet for a moment. "I've had a few." His memory suddenly reverted back to the previous night, when he'd woken up and been taken into Matt's arms; comforted, soothed. Were those the only times he would ever get any affection from the other boy?

"Have they gotten any worse?" the other boy questioned.

Mello shrugged. "Some nights they're better, some nights they're worse." He looked over at Emil. "What about you? How have you been?"

Emil laughed, as though surprised Mello had even asked about him. "Okay. Things are boring in Berlin without you, you know."

"That's just because you have no other friends," Mello reminded him.

"I don't want any other friends," the other boy muttered.

"...and you say _I'm _like Matt..."

XxX

Alex didn't come downstairs that afternoon, and Matt didn't venture upstairs. He stayed in the comfortable vicinity of the living room, watching television and flipping through random magazines. Slightly, he wondered if he should feel guilty for fighting with Alex, and being so horrible to Mello even when he didn't deserve it. It wasn't that he purposely tried to be mean, he just said stuff without thinking. He did feel bad for snapping at Mello; it wasn't his fault that Matt was in such an irritable mood, and he shouldn't take it out on him. Giving a sigh, Matt closed the magazine he was reading, and muted the television, sinking down on the couch and closing his eyes, simply listening to the silence. He wondered what Mello and Emil were doing, or whether Mello was confiding in Emil about how much they'd been fighting. He knew Emil would probably love the chance to be Mello's rebound in a situation like that, and he could feel a surge of jealousy pulse through him at the mere thought.

_ "I just figured that he would've chosen him, you know...?"_

Why _hadn't_ Mello chosen Emil? He was -Matt hated to admit it, though it was very much true- attractive enough, and nice when he wanted to be. He had known Mello since practically childhood, and was one of Mello's closest friends. Was it only because Matt had come that Mello had chosen him, and not Emil? If Emil had come out to Mello earlier, would they have already been together? If this was true, then no wonder Emil hated him. If it weren't for Matt, Emil might have actually had a shot. He probably would've treated Mello better, anyway.

Just as Matt began to sink into his pit of self-loathing again, soft footsteps nearby snapped him out of his reverie, and he sat up on the couch, whirling around to see Alex standing hesitantly in the doorway. "What do you want?" Matt demanded snappishly, immediately regretting his harsh tone. There he went again, taking his irritable mood out on other people.

"Nothing," Alex said softly, and Matt noticed that the other boy's makeup had been reapplied, his eyes red. He must have been crying. For some reason, this thought made Matt's stomach twist in a funny knot. Alex had never cried before. "I was -uh- going to go to town and pick up a few things. Do you want anything?" he asked, and Matt was taken aback. Why was he being so nice after that fight?

"Uh, no – I uh, I'm fine," Matt said, surprised.

"Kay then. I -uh- I'll be back in a little while," he said, turning and heading out the doorway. A few seconds later, Matt heard the front door close.

He wondered what things Alex would possibly need to pick up from town, but didn't ponder the thought any longer than necessary.

_"You should be a little nicer, you know."_

What business did Mello have telling him to be nicer to Alex, anyway? If anything, Matt figured Mello would despise Alex as much as Emil despised Matt. But quite par contre, they were like best friends, and for some reason this knowledge gnawed uncomfortably at Matt's insides. Then again, it was his own fault for being so bitter and purposely driving Mello away lately. What the hell was wrong with him, anyway? He loved Mello, didn't he? So why was he being such an ass?

He blamed Alex.

A while later, Matt opened his eyes, realizing the he must have fallen asleep, though for how long he didn't know. Pulling himself up from the couch and stifling a yawn, he shuffled over to the window and looked outside. It was already dark, but he could tell that the car wasn't in the driveway, which meant Alex wasn't home. This pleased him greatly. On the other hand, Mello should be home since it was dark, so Matt headed upstairs, fully ready to apologize for his behaviour earlier.

However, when he arrived upstairs and opened the door to his room, no one was there. Looking at the bedside clock, Matt saw that it was almost nine at night. Even Marc should have arrived home, and the fact that he hadn't meant he must be busier than usual at work. Suddenly, Matt felt terribly alone. Sure he liked having time to himself, but it was a quite a different matter when he was stuck at home all by himself in a giant house, filled with nothing but complete silence. He gave a sigh and turned back out of the bedroom, figuring he might as well go downstairs and watch television; it always made him feel a little less lonely. Not to mention, he always became slightly creeped out staying home alone at night, simply for the fact that they were practically out in the middle of nowhere, and -at this moment- he didn't have a car, and the house was so big that he would never be able to hear or otherwise tell if someone was in the house until they'd already stolen something or attempted to murder him. He suppressed a shiver and continued down the hall.

On the way down the hall, however, he noticed that Marc's study door was open. Usually, the door was shut, whether Marc was inside or not. The fact that it was standing wide open slightly peaked Matt's rarely-aroused curiosity, and he slowly walked towards the door, taking a furtive glance around the hall to make certain that -in case someone had snuck in- they weren't around to see him.

The room was empty, the horde of case files atop Marc's desk a little taller than usual. The desk lamp had been left on; something else that Matt found a little odd. When Marc went out, he always turned his study light off, and closed the door. Another cold chill ran up Matt's spine, and he tried not to think about too many possibilities. Deep down, he knew that Marc had probably just left in a rush and forgot to turn the light off, or Mello or Alex had come in and turned it on and forgotten it. Though why Alex or Mello would come in the study was beyond Matt's realm of thinking at the moment.

Slowly, he walked over and sat down in the large spinning chair behind Marc's desk, taking a few spins as he was sure Mello or Alex would have done, before stopping to face the papers on the desk. They were never organized, and Matt didn't bother to try to do anything with them as he shuffled through random ones, skimming the information before laying it back down.

He knew it was there. He wasn't quite sure if he was purposely ignoring it, or if it really held no interest to him. That was stupid. Of course it held interest. Of course he wanted to know more than anything what it said. Why was he hesitating? It was no different than reading other people's files. That was stupid too. Of course it was different than reading other people's case files. He didn't know any of those people. He could read about the horrors and abuse they'd been through without so much as flinching. This was definitely different. But why ignore it? He wanted to know, didn't he?

With a slightly shaky sigh, Matt reached over and took the manila folder in his hands, feeling the light weight of the information as he bit his lower lip and regarded the name inscribed on the top:

"_Alexandre Dupont_"

He'd figured the 'Garnier' was fake anyway.

It wouldn't be such an awful sin to look inside. It wasn't as if it would tell him anything he didn't already know: Alex had done drugs, his mother was a neglectful narc. So what? There really wasn't even a point in looking in it. Alex wasn't even around, so it wasn't as if he would ever know Matt had looked inside. There would be no satisfaction. Yet, somehow...something pulled Matt towards the folder. Something forced his hand to open it and take out the papers inside, and something forced his eyes to read them.

The first page was simple, all of the information -other than Marc's own personal notes- in German. Matt gave a small irritated mumble, unable to understand all of the technical terms that he'd never learned in school; it was times like this he wished he'd been a native German. Alex's picture was paper-clipped to the page, but it wasn't the Alex that Matt knew. This Alex had dark brown hair, not blond. Yet it was the same face, the same bright blue eyes. He was wearing the smile that Matt had become so accustomed to seeing on him, and that the blond had rarely shown lately. This was a younger Alex, not even in the tenth grade. He must have been 13 when the picture was taken, at least.

Flipping this page over, Matt looked at the next one, which was all in Marc's tidy French handwriting. They all appeared to be boring notes about Alex's life and childhood, yet Matt still read every word for reasons unknown to him. He finished the first paragraph, something about where Alex had lived before Paris. Then it began into all of the boring stuff about his childhood. Matt told himself he didn't care, but at the same time he was still reading. Alex had never talked about his childhood, he'd never mentioned his parents or anything. Then again, Matt had never asked. This was his chance to find out.

Leaning back in the chair, Matt muttered everything he read under his breath, absorbing himself in the notes. "_'straight A student … grades dropped drastically when he turned 11...'_' He sat up a little in the chair, a little interested despite himself. "_'at age 11, confided to his mother that his father...'_" Matt stopped, a sick feeling suddenly twisting in his stomach. "_'...that his that his father had been sexually molesting him...'" _He put a hand to his mouth, yet continued reading for some sick sort of reason. "_'...At the age of 13, his mother caught him...divorced father...moved...mother began doing drugs...Age of 15, moved to Paris...'_" Matt felt his mouth go dry; this had been when he and Alex had first met. "'_...grades improved... Age 16, moved to Germany with mother...'"_

Matt stopped reading, resisting the impulse to vomit. He'd never even considered, never even thought, imagined... He stood up from the chair and stared down at the notes, the urge to puke only becoming stronger as he read it again. Alex's father...his own father...had...

"_You don't know what he's been through..._"

Mello had known. He had to have known, Alex had to have told him. The sick feeling was combined with a wave of anger now. Alex would confide in Mello, but not in him? Even though he knew he probably didn't have the right, Matt couldn't help but feel betrayed.

Suddenly, movement in the doorway caught Matt's attention, and he jumped, dropping the folder and its contents, as he saw Alex standing there, watching him. "A-Alex, I … I didn't hear you come in."

Alex's expression was strange, like he wasn't all there. He was swaying slightly, and steadied himself against the doorframe before walking into the room. "What're you reading?" he asked, sniffing slightly even though his eyes weren't red from crying anymore.

Before Matt could hide them, Alex had bent down and picked up a couple of the papers, his eyes scanning each note before looking back at Matt, his dazed expression replaced with anger. "So you think you have the right to read all about me, huh?" he demanded, and Matt shrank back a little, suddenly ashamed.

"I-" was all he could manage to stutter out before Alex had flung the papers back on the desk.

"So now you know all about me, don't you! Now you know how...screwed up I am!" he yelled, bracing a hand on the desk as he started swaying again. "You know how...how my dad came into my room every night, and how he would crawl into my bed..." he reached out a hand towards Matt, and the redhead instinctively backed away. "What!" Alex demanded. "You don't want to hear it anymore? Because you seemed to have a damn good time of reading it, and probably laughing at me! You think it's what I deserved, huh? Because you hate me so much, you're probably glad, aren't you?"

"Please, Alex, s-stop-" Matt pleaded softly.

The other boy grabbed Matt's wrist and slammed him against the wall, leaning in to where their faces were millimeters apart, so close that Matt could feel Alex's warm breath on his face. It didn't smell like alcohol; he hadn't been drinking, yet he was acting like he was wasted. "He would come into my room every night..." Alex hissed into Matt's ear, and the redhead tried to shut out his ears, but he could still hear every word. "He would crawl into my bed, and start touching me..." He gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "I didn't understand what the hell was going on. But it felt good, Matt...it felt really really good when he touched me like that, and I didn't know why. I thought something was wrong with me. It was weird, it didn't feel right, but I still liked it and it confused the hell out of me. But then..." he whispered, "then...he would start undressing me, and before I knew what was happening I was being ripped apart from the inside out, and I didn't even know what was going on!"

"Stop it!" Matt cried, trying to push the other boy away. Alex only smirked and pushed him closer against the wall, his words becoming more slurred together as he went on. "I tried to tell my mother, you know. But of course she didn't believe me. Then he only punished me harder each night because I'd ratted him out. One night, I screamed so bad that my mom came running... And then she found him, in my room, in my bed, _fucking_ me!" His bottom lip trembled, but he was still smiling. "Needless to say, she believed me after that..."

Matt could suddenly feel hot tears slipping down his face, and he was shaking. He didn't want to hear it, he didn't want to know.

Apparently satisfied, Alex moved away and turned around and stalked towards the door, slamming it loudly behind him as he went out in the hallway.

XxX

"For the last time, Emil, you _do not look fat_," Mello said exasperatedly to the black-haired boy still examining himself in the mirror. "You're as thin as a rail, and you even weigh less than me now."

"That's just because you've been pigging out over at Matt's house all summer," Emil replied matter-of-fact, pulling his shirt back over his head. "Once you come back home, you'll lose weight again."

"You know the only reason I'm thin is because I _can't_ eat whenever I want at home," Mello reminded him dryly. "Or have you forgotten?"

Emil sighed. "Of course I haven't forgotten, I'm sorry. But still, I look awful."

"Would you shut up?" Mello sighed. "That is so not true." He laid back across Emil's bed and tossed a pillow at the other boy, which he irritably swatted away. "You look _fine_."

"Fine. That's all," Emil stated.

"Oh my _God_!" Mello rolled his eyes and turned over on his stomach. "How's this?" He cleared his throat and began to recite: "You are by far one of the most beautiful boys I have ever met, and you are most certainly not fat, and any boy would be lucky to have you," he finished dramatically.

"Is that so?" Emil said, raising an eyebrow as he went over and sat down on the bed beside the blond. He pulled his knees up against his chest and leaned against the wall. "So...how much do you know about this 'Alex' guy, anyway?" he asked.

Mello shrugged, wondering if he should tell Emil everything he knew. He didn't feel right in repeating what Alex had told him in what was probably confidence, but it wasn't as if Emil had anyone to tell. "He was abused as a kid, and his mother's a narc. That's about all I know," Mello replied, rolling over on his back again to look up at Emil.

"Abused? How so?"

Hesitating slightly, Mello replied, "...his father raped him repeatedly when he was a kid. When his mother found out about it, she divorced him."

Emil's eyes widened in shock. "Jesus..."

"I know..." Mello gave a dry sort of laugh. "It's odd, you know. I always thought that I had one of the worst lives imaginable. But really, there's always someone who has it worse..."

"That doesn't mean things don't suck for you, Mello," Emil replied. "You've been through just as much, just maybe in different ways." He was silent for a minute before continuing. "So does Matt know about all of this?"

Mello shook his head. "No. Alex never told him. And who can really blame him? If it were me, that'd be the last thing I'd want people to know."

"So why'd he tell you?" Emil wondered aloud.

"Beats me. I just asked about his childhood, and he told me," Mello answered. "I can't help but feel sorry for him, to be honest."

"Tell me about it."

"Matt's being really hard on him, though. He still hasn't forgiven Alex for what he did all those years ago." Mello shook his head. "I dunno, I think he should be nicer but...if I were in Matt's shoes, how would I feel, really?"

"You would still love Matt, even though he'd hurt you," Emil stated matter-of-fact.

A sudden realisation hit Mello, and his eyes snapped to the other boy. "Do you think that means that Matt still loves Alex?" he asked quickly.

Emil shrugged. "It doesn't mean he doesn't love _you_. I'm sure he doesn't want to love Alex still, and if anything I'd say he's doing his best to move on. But having Alex there must be tough for him, regardless."

"You're so mean," Mello pouted, tossing another pillow at the black-haired boy across from him.

"I'm just being honest. Would you rather me lie and sugar coat the truth just to make you feel better?"

"Yes, I would," Mello replied, giving a heavy sigh. "Everything has just been so screwed up, even before Alex came... I don't know what to do anymore."

Emil leaned back against the wall and mimicked the blond's sigh, a thoughtful look crossing his face for a few minutes. "Say," he ventured, giving a shrug of his shoulders, "why don't we go into the city sometime this week? I hear it's really pretty, and I've only ever been on the outskirts before."

Appreciating the other boy's attempt to change the subject, Mello smiled. "Yeah, that'd be nice." He paused and then looked around the room as though searching for something.

"What?" Emil prompted, noticing Mello's wandering gaze.

"Do you still play the Cello?" he asked.

"Wah...yeah, some." The other boy blushed slightly.

Mello smiled. "Play something for me."

Emil's face turned a deeper shade of pink. "No."

"Oh, please?" Mello pleaded. "I love hearing you play."

"Ugh, fine," Emil gave a defeated groan and walked over to the closet, where he reached in and pulled out the instrument Mello had been looking for. "What do you want to hear?" He asked, sitting on a nearby chair by the bed.

"I don't care. Something you wrote," Mello replied, turning to face the other boy.

Another groan. "Fine, okay." Emil placed the bow to the strings and closed his eyes, sliding it over the instrument to produce a sound of soothing notes that floated through the still air.

Mello laid back and closed his eyes, enjoying listening to the other boy play. Emil had always been particularly gifted in music, art, and the likes – ever since they were kids. Mello would always make the other boy play for him, even when he refused. Though he always had the feeling that Emil was still pleased when Mello complimented him. As the music continued to drift amongst them, Mello opened his eyes and looked at Emil, who was absorbed in playing as he always became. As the blond watched him, he couldn't help but notice that Emil was quite beautiful – the way his black hair fell gently in his face as he leaned forward against the cello, and the grace of his pale fingers as they drifted along the instrument. For a moment, he was almost transfixed.

Then, suddenly, an overwhelming sense of pity washed over him. He always clung to the other boy, and gave affectionate gestures, smiles, things that really were nothing more than friendly actions to him, yet to Emil there was no telling how he must long for another meaning behind those things.

Mello sat up on the edge of the bed, tilting his head as the end of the piece came near. The final few notes played, and Emil set the instrument aside.

"I'm sorry."

"Huh?" Emil's brown eyes widened a little and he looked at Mello curiously. "Sorry for what?"

"I...I know how hard it must be, to be around me all the time and feeling the way that you do. I never really thought about it before, about how you must have to work so hard just to act normal and everything. It must be hard, and I know I only make it more difficult by coming around all the time and completely disregarding that. I...I'm sorry," Mello finished.

The black-haired boy was silent for a minute, regarding Mello with an almost shocked expression, before his face relaxed into a smile. "You shouldn't be sorry. It isn't your fault. How many times do I have to tell you not to feel guilty about it?" he asked.

Mello shrugged. "You only say that so I won't feel bad."

"Oh, please Mello. I don't expect you to pretend to feel anything for me. I want you to be happy – and if Matt makes you happy then I'm fine with that. I know that you want to make me happy, but you don't have to go to unnecessary lengths. I'm happy just being around you, even if it's just friendship."

The blond was silent, knowing that this was just another lie. He could tell by the falseness of the other boy's smile that it was practically torturing him inside.

XxX

Matt stood silently out in the hallway, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. He didn't want to feel guilty. He didn't want to feel sorry for him. Alex was the last person he wanted to feel any pity towards, whatsoever. Yet all the same, he somehow found himself knocking on the door to the other boy's room, where he knew he would be.

A muffled "come in" was his reply, and -heaving a deep sigh- Matt swung the door open and stepped in the room, closing it gently behind him. He could see Alex give him a surprised -and then angry- look from his place on the bed. "What do you want?" he snapped angrily, turning towards the window and refusing to look at the redhead that had now sat beside him on the bed.

"Look, Alex..." Matt began, his eyes cast down in his lap, where he was wringing his hands. "I'm sorry, about everything I said before, and...how I acted. I-I had no idea that your dad had-"

"So you feel sorry for me?" the blond retorted. "That's it, huh? You feel bad so you decided you'd come apologize to ease _your_ conscience, and make _you_ feel better! I don't need your pity, alright?"

Matt's mouth opened, and then closed, at a loss for words. "I-I...no – no, that's …. that's not it. I...I really am sorry. I..." he sighed. "I do feel sorry for you. I don't want to, but I do." He swallowed hard as he felt sudden unexpected warm tears form in his eyes. "I can't help it. I feel sorry for you." He looked back up at Alex with a pained glance. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh, yeah – because that's really the first thing you'd want to tell someone: 'oh, by the way, my dad raped me as a kid'."

"You told Mello," Matt stated.

"He asked," Alex said. "You never did. Had you, I would have told you the truth."

Matt was silent then, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to apologize anymore, it was agony enough just admitting he'd been a jerk. "Look, Alex...let's just pretend...that nothing ever happened, okay? Just...put this all behind us, like you wanted. I want to hate you, but...I can't. So let's just agree to be civil, alright?" he said, similar to the same pleading voice that Alex had used that morning when asking the very same thing.

"But you don't understand, Matt..." Alex replied, his voice catching in the back of his throat. "I don't want to just be 'civil'." He turned around to face Matt, his eyes possessing the same drunken look that they'd had in Marc's study, yet Matt smelled no alcohol on the other boy's breath. "Please..." he leaned in forward, and before Matt could stop him, the other boy had pressed his lips firmly against his.

Matt let out a surprised little squeak, instinctively placing his hands on Alex's shoulders. However, he didn't pull away. Fixed in a state of shock, Matt couldn't help but relax a little at the other boy's kiss. It was so achingly familiar. "A-Alex..." Matt found himself gasping, breaking away from him briefly, shaking. "Wh-what are you...?"

"Please," the blond whispered, his lips brushing gently against matt's ear and causing him to shiver. "I miss you..." he said, almost a moan. Before Matt could think, Alex had recaptured his lips harder, pushing Matt back on the bed.

Despite the clear, adamant knowledge that he didn't want to do this, shouldn't be doing this, Matt still found he had no will to break away, to push the other boy off. A small involuntary moan escaped his lips as Alex's mouth moved down his neck, sending a small ripple of pleasure throughout his body. For a moment, Matt was briefly reminded of the first few days Mello had arrived, and how strongly his physical feelings for the blond had been. Everything had been so stressful lately, that he'd almost forgotten about it completely.

He was shocked that a simple kiss from Alex sent his body into such a frenzy. Without thinking, Matt wrapped his arms around the other boy and pulled him close, longing -not necessarily for Alex himself- but for the warm heat seeping through his body. Then again, maybe he _did_ long for Alex, too.

As he thought of Mello again, Matt felt a horribly guilty wave seize him, and he pushed Alex off once more, gasping, "A-Alex, we can't...M-Mello, he..."

Alex cut him off with another rough kiss. "What? He's not here," he replied, straddling one of Matt's legs with his own and beginning to rub against him. The redhead gasped again, and closed his eyes, biting his lip to suppress the pleasured moan that threatened to be released. "No...please..." he begged. "Stop..." But his voice was only a half-hearted whisper. He didn't want to be doing this, he didn't. Yet at the same time, he couldn't help but feel a certain aching familiarity, a missing feeling, a small comfort, at the other boy's touch. He didn't want to feel it, didn't want to want it. He detested it. He wanted to detest Alex. But he couldn't. And he knew this.

"Please, A-Alex, we..." He stopped once more as their lips joined, and Alex's hands began to work on his pants, undoing his belt with the type of quickness that displayed a certain skill, which Matt wondered if it had been acquired through experience. He wanted it to stop, but yet he wanted to continue. He wanted to throw Alex off of him, to hit him and scream at him for hurting him, but he couldn't. "Alex..." he whispered again, but this time it was less of a plea, and more of a moan. The next second, he felt his shirt slip off, and Alex's hands ran along his chest, touching his bare skin and making him shudder.

"You have no idea...how badly he hurt me. Please, Matt..." Alex gasped, his mouth now kissing the other boy's neck. "...I need you. You're the only one who understands me."

Understand? That wasn't true. Matt didn't understand Alex at all, had no idea what it was like to be hurt so horribly by a parent, what it was like to feel so hopeless. He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He didn't want to have anything more to do with Alex. Yet he still couldn't bring himself to break their embrace. His body was already on fire, he couldn't stop at this point if he wanted to.

All of a sudden, a horrible slamming noise shattered the quarantined world around them. It actually wasn't a slamming sound – in fact, the door opened rather softly – but it was loud enough to break Matt's reverie and cause him to throw Alex off with such force that the other boy nearly fell over the bed. The redhead simply sat in the middle of the bed for a moment, looking with wide eyes towards the doorway, as if in a trance.

The blond in the doorway mimicked his look, just staring for a minute, as though taking in the whole scene. Then his expression changed, not really in his face entirely, but in his eyes. Matt could see the deep hurt embedded there, in the other boy's deep blue irises, the kind of betrayal that Matt himself had felt when Alex had abandoned him only two years ago. Then as though coming to his senses, he turned and fled out the doorway, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the stairs, followed by another pair, belonging to the other boy Matt hadn't noticed before.

As if just now registering what was happening, Matt scrambled off the bed and nearly ran into the door-frame of the door as he sped after them. "MELLO! Wait, please! I-I can explain! I –!"

Emil turned around as Mello disappeared down the rest of the stairway. His glare was furious, possessing more anger than Matt knew to be within him. A look of pure, adamant, undiluted HATRED. It sent a wave of fear through Matt, causing him to take a step back.

"Don't ever come near him again," Emil said, and turned to follow Mello.

XxX

XxX

XxX

XxX

It was a while after Mello and Emil had arrived back at Emil's house, that either one of them said anything. Mello had spent almost thirty minutes in the bathroom -crying, Emil knew. His eyes were red when he finally came back in the bedroom and sat on the bed beside the black-haired boy, docile and silent. He stared straight ahead, not really registering anything.

"Are you...okay?" Emil asked, placing a hand on Mello's shoulder.

Wordlessly, Mello turned and wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck burying his face into his shoulder. Emil -though slightly surprised- wrapped his arms around Mello in turn and held him close, stroking his hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered, kissing the top of the blond's head.

It was then that Mello pulled back, staring into Emil's eyes with a look that the black-haired boy had never seen before; it was a strange look, a blank look – but at the same time it was deep. No words were spoken, no warning was given, as Mello promptly leaned forward and pressed his lips to Emil's in a sudden distraught gesture.

Emil froze, his eyes wide with shock. He didn't move as Mello parted their lips, leaning forward to whisper in the other boy's ear – a soft, pleading, request.

"Please...I need you, Emil."

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 10-<p> 


	11. Blackness

**I apologise for the lateness of this chapter, but I had to completely rewrite the end so it took a while.**

* * *

><p>Kapitel 11<strong><br>Chapter 11**

Dunkelheit**  
>Blackness<strong>_  
>Noirceur<em>

* * *

><p>Matt flew back into the bedroom, his heart pounding with a ferocity he never knew he possessed. In one single moment, his entire world seemed to be crashing around him. Breathing had long since become difficult, and he paced frantically about the room, recovering his shirt and yanking it over his head before redoing his belt. The entire time Alex was standing dumbstruck beside the bed, watching Matt with a blank stare. When Matt turned around to look at him, he glared with the same intensity and hatred that Emil had regarded him with.<p>

"Matt, I-" Alex began, but the other boy cut him off.

"Don't ever talk to me again," Matt said, turning to walk out of the room.

"Matt, please, I'm -"

"This is all your fault!" Matt cried, turning around and not bothering to control the hot tears in his eyes. "Mello hates me now, and it's all your fault!" He clenched his hands into fists and they rested at his sides. "I hate you!"

The blond before him flinched slightly, his gaze faltering to the floor. "Please, I-I didn't know w-what I was doing, please I-" he pleaded softly.

"Sorry! That's all you have to say! You've ruined EVERYTHING! I HATE YOU! DON'T EVER COME NEAR ME AGAIN!"

Suddenly Alex's expression turned angry. "MY FAULT! You could have stopped it ANY time you wanted, so don't just blame me!"

"BUT IT IS YOUR FAULT!" Matt screamed, as loud as he could manage. "You're the cause of EVERYTHING bad in my life! You hurt me two years ago and then think you can come back and fuck me! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH YOU!"

Alex regarded him with a slight pleading look. "I'm sorry, okay? I – just please, I-"

"Just shut up!" Matt cried, whirling back around to face Alex, trying to control the hot tears in his eyes. "I hate you! Do you hear me! I HATE YOU!" his voice was hoarse from screaming.

"Matt -"

"I WISH YOU WERE DEAD!" Matt screamed before he could stop himself. He then paused and stared at Alex, shaking with suppressed fury. The other boy's blue eyes were wide, hurt, and he didn't move or say anything. Without even waiting for a response, Matt turned and stalked out of the room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

XxX

Emil gave a deep sigh and rolled over in the bed, facing the blond sleeping beside him. He had fallen into a distraught sleep mere hours ago, tear stains still lingering on his face. Emil could feel a small stab of pity as he reached over and brushed a strand of blond hair from the other boy's face.

_"Please...I need you, Emil."_

_ As Mello pushed him back on the bed, Emil could feel his heart skip a beat, and he couldn't find the strength to stop the other boy as their lips touched again, rougher and more desperate than before._

_ "M-Mello..." Emil gasped, his face flushed. "You-"_

_ The blond drowned out his words once more by placing a kiss on his lips, and Emil could feel a warm sensation seep through him at the touch of Mello's lips; something he'd longed for for years. Mello's kiss was sweet, and had it not been for the distraught way in which he was bringing their lips together, it would have been soft, too, Emil knew._

_ Soon, he could feel the blond's hands working at his pants, beginning to undo his belt. Emil let out a surprised gasp and pushed Mello up. "Mello, y-you..."_

_ "It's what you want, isn't it?" Mello said, breathless and face flushed. Emil could see the tears shining in his eyes._

_ "Yeah, but Mello – not like this..." Emil replied, brushing the other boy's face with his fingertips. "You'll regret this, and you know you will. It's not what you really want."_

_ "How do _you_ know that I want?" Mello demanded, his voice a little high-pitched._

_ "Because you still love Matt."_

_ Mello's bottom lip trembled and the tears began to progress down his face. "It's not fair," he said. "I want to hurt him. I – I want to hurt him like he hurt me." He collapsed against Emil and began to sob. "But I can't! Dammit, why can't I!"_

_ Emil gave a sympathetic sigh and wrapped Mello in his arms, holding him close. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry..."_

XxX

It had taken everything Emil had to stop. He'd wanted nothing more than to let Mello continue and for them to go all the way. But he knew it wouldn't have been right, and he would have regretted it just as much as Mello. Even now, Emil had to resist the impulse to reach over and pull the other boy close, to steal a kiss. He'd always had to resist that overpowering impulse.

Mello moaned a little in his sleep, and Emil could have sworn that he heard the name "Matt". That was the only name he would ever hear Mello call out for in his sleep, Emil knew.

XxX

Matt slammed his door and went over to his closet, opening that door and slamming it as well, before going to his bed and throwing himself face down on the covers.

It couldn't have happened. He'd lost the one thing that had meant _anything_ to him, and all because of Alex. At least, that was what he wanted to blame it on. Deep down, though, he knew he was to blame as well. Him and his damn hormones.

He didn't know what to do. Mello would probably never forgive him for this, and there was a slim chance of Emil even letting Matt _see_ the other boy to begin with.

He rolled over on his back and draped an arm loosely across his forehead. Everything had fallen apart so quickly, right before his eyes. Mello would hate him, hate him... Why, why had he done such a stupid thing! But no – it wasn't his fault. He hadn't started it. It was Alex. All Alex's fault.

Matt gave an angry, distraught sigh and gazed towards the ceiling, not being able to not somewhat blame himself, too.

XxX

The next morning, Emil and Mello were jolted awake by the loud slam of an opening door. Both boys sat straight up in bed, dazed and groggy. An irritated blond-haired woman (Mello assumed this to be Emil's aunt) was pacing about the room, stuffing various things into a large trash bag. "Jesus, this room is a mess," she complained. "Every time I come in here, there's ten more coke cans than the day before!"

"Don't you knock?" Emil groaned, running a hand through his tousled black hair.

Turning around, the woman sent a fierce glare Emil's way. "Excuse me for wanting the house to look presentable!" Her sharp brown eyes then traveled to Mello. "Oh, another one," she commented dryly. "What happened to the one that practically ate the whole damn refrigerator – or, wait...was it the one that stole one-hundred Euros from my purse? I forget how many have been through here."

It took Mello a moment, but then he finally realized what she was talking about. "Wait, no – I-I'm just..." he began.

The woman cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I don't care – I'm through. You want your room to be a shithole? Fine." She dropped the trash bag unceremoniously on the floor, and stalked out of the room.

Both boys were silent for a very long time, neither really knowing what to say to cover the awkward silence. Emil kept his gaze carefully focused on the wall, no doubt too embarrassed to even look at Mello. Finally, after what seemed like an hour, he got up and began to fix his hair.

Mello followed the other boy with his eyes, watching him carefully. Then finally, he asked softly, "...did you really sleep with all those boys?"

Emil turned and looked him straight in the face. "It meant nothing," he replied firmly, and the sincere, honest look in his eyes told Mello that he was indeed speaking the truth. And this was what saddened him.

"...It's because of me, isn't it?" Mello asked quietly. "Because you-"

Before he could utter another word, Emil had turned and grabbed him by the shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. "Mello, don't ever blame yourself for _my_ mistakes. This isn't your fault, okay? So please, please don't blame yourself," he pleaded.

"I don't understand it, then!" Mello cried, shoving Emil's hands off his shoulders and standing from the bed. "Why would you do something like this! Why would you sleep with all those guys if it meant nothing!"

Emil froze, and his gaze lowered to the floor. "...I don't know," he admitted. "I really don't."

Mello could feel his hands shaking, though from anger or what he didn't know.

"What do you care, anyway!" Emil demanded suddenly, and Mello's eyes snapped back to his face.

"What-?"

"Why do you care who I fuck, anyhow? What does it matter to you if I have meaningless sex with random guys!"

Mello's eyes widened in astonishment. "I care because you're my friend, Emil!"

"Yeah, well sometimes that's not enough!"

Mello froze, his eyes wide. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Sometimes "just friends" isn't enough, okay! You have no right telling me what I should or shouldn't do, just because I'm your "friend"! So just shut up and leave me the hell alone!"

His body frozen, Mello did shut up. His eyes were filled with hurt, and slowly began to fill with tears, as Emil stood petrified in place with a similar expression. Without another word, Mello stalked past him into the hallway. A few seconds later, Emil could hear the bathroom door slam.

Giving a dejected sigh, Emil turned and went downstairs, stalking out the front door.

XxX

Needless to say, Matt didn't speak to Alex at all that morning, and the other boy didn't speak to him. They avoided each other like the plague, neither venturing outside their rooms. Marc hadn't come home the night before, as far as Matt knew, but he was used to it. There were some nights Marc stayed overnight at work. Matt was perfectly fine with it; in fact, in this case, it was probably best he didn't come home. Matt didn't really feel like explaining (or rather, coming up with an excuse) as to why he and Alex weren't talking, or where Mello was.

It was a few hours later, however, that Matt was forced to go downstairs, when a knock sounded on the front door – which he knew Alex wouldn't answer.

The surprise awaiting him on the other side of the door wasn't pleasant, by any means.

"E-Emil...what're you...?"

The black-haired boy stalked promptly into the main hall, his jaw set. Matt could tell he was furious as he turned to stare at the redhead before him, his face livid. "You..." he began. "You filthy, lying, bastard..." Matt could tell it took all of Emil's willpower not to attack him then and there.

"Look, just give me a chance to-!"

His sentence was interrupted as Emil lunged forward, and -with more strength than Matt would have ever predicted for someone that thin- pinned him roughly against the wall. "You take the one person I've EVER loved, and THIS is how you treat him! You lying piece of SHIT!"

Matt felt a sudden blow in the stomach, and he doubled over, coughing, clutching his side as Emil stepped back and observed his damage. "You're going to pay for this, you hear me?" And before Matt had even recovered from the first blow, Emil grabbed him and threw him to the floor, kicking him once more in the stomach before pinning the redhead beneath him on the floor.

Instinctively, Matt reacted, shoving his knee into the other boy's stomach, pushing him off and switching positions. Emil in turn slammed his fist against the other boy's mouth, and Matt could taste blood.

"I'll never, EVER, forgive you for this, do you understand!" he hit Matt again, and the other boy's head throbbed.

"Would you get off me?" Matt cried, grabbing a handful of Emil's hair and pulling him off. The other boy took no hesitation in knocking him back down, and Matt felt his head hit hard against the floor, and he suddenly saw spots.

"You fucking, lying, piece of shit!" Emil yelled, pushing Matt forward as he tried once more to stand up. The redhead fell forward, and felt his head collide with the side of the hallway table. He felt warm blood dripping down his face, but he ignored it as he turned back and lunged for Emil, hitting him with as much force as he could manage.

"You're just jealous because you can't fuck him! That's the only reason you're coming for me now, and I know it!" Matt cried, and Emil angrily kneed him in the stomach again. This time, Matt coughed up blood, and fell to his knees on the floor.

"Miten sä kehtaat? Mä rakastan Melloa enemmän ku sä koskaan tuut rakastamaan häntä! Älä koskaan sano tota! Koskaan! Mä tapan sut!" Before Matt could even register what the other boy had screamed at him, in whatever language that Matt didn't recognise in the least, something collided with the side of his head. He fell on the floor and gave a groan, as Emil's foot kicked him again. "Mä vihaan sua! Mä en koskaan anna sulle anteeks sitä mitä sä teit! Koskaan!" He clenched his hands into fists at his sides and breathed deeply, apparently resisting the impulse to hit Matt again.

The other boy slowly sat up, wiping the blood from his face and lip and regarding the other boy in shock. "Wha, you...that language?"

Emil flinched, apparently just realising what he'd screamed. "Wh-what does it matter!" he demanded, quickly switching back to German.

Wincing slightly from the pain now coursing through his body. "So why did you lie and say you were German, huh? To impress _him_?" Matt spat, a little blood escaping his mouth in the process.

"SHUT UP!" Emil yelled, raising his hand to strike Matt again, but the redhead was quicker. He lunged forward and knocked the other boy off his feet, causing him to crash to the floor, the back of his head hitting the corner of the table Matt had collided with earlier. He gave a small cry as he hit it, and Matt could hear him mutter curses under his breath as he pulled himself up from the floor.

Then, he started crying. Without warning, he just started crying. "Tää ei oo reilua..." he sobbed. "Mä vain halusin hänet. Ja sä veit hänet multa. Ja nyt, nyt tää on miten... Tää on miten sä kohtelet häntä..." he started crying harder, no longer caring what language he spoke. It was as though he couldn't make the right words come out in German, or English, or French. It was his own language. "Mä vihasin sua siitä asti kuin hän tapasi sut ja rakastui suhun. Mä yritin... Mä yritin olla vihaamatta sua, mut se ei auttanut... Mä vihaan sua... oikeesti... Ehkä siks et mä oon kateellinen tai... Joo, mä oon mustasukkanen. Mä oon mustasukkainen, koska sä veit sen ihmisen, jota mä rakastin, ja teit jotain tollasta!" He turned around and stood up, tears streaking his face. He looked Matt dead in the face, his face filled with hatred, and said -in Matt's language, this time, as though to make sure he clearly understood-, "Je te déteste. N'oublie jamais ça."

And without another word, he stalked out of the house.

When Matt looked up again, he saw Alex standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide. He walked over beside Matt. He reached to help him up, but Matt angrily swatted his hand away.

"Don't touch me," he snapped, pulling himself to his feet – wincing a little from his various cuts and bruises. He'd never figured Emil to be that strong. The kid looked far too scrawny to even withstand a fight.

"I take it he was pissed?" Alex said, and Matt sent him a glare.

"Just leave me alone," Matt said, limping over to the kitchen, where he went and opened the freezer to get a bag of ice, which he alternated between his forehead, lip, and eye as he sat down in a kitchen chair at the table.

Alex rolled his eyes and walked over to the sink, wetting a washcloth. "T'es si têtu," he pouted, and Matt glared again.

"That's "vous" to you," he commented, and Alex sighed.

"Oh, please Matt. Is it really necessary to go to such extremes?"

"Just get something straight, okay?" Matt said, resting the ice in his lap. "You and I are_ not_ friends. We will never _be_ friends. So just stop with-" he stopped and winced as his lip gave another painful throb.

Giving a sigh, Alex went over and placed the washcloth to Matt's lip, swatting the other boy's hand away when he tried to stop him. "Just let me wipe all this blood off your face, at least."

Matt crossed his arms and glared down at the floor as Alex gently -almost lovingly, Matt couldn't help but notice- wiped away the blood. "He really is quite strong for such a scrawny little brat, huh?"

Matt refused to reply, and eventually Alex gave up altogether and went to rinse the washcloth off in the sink.

XxX

When Emil entered through the doorway later, Mello was sitting on the couch watching television. His eyes widened when he saw the state Emil was in, and he quickly rushed over. "Emil, what happened? You're bleeding!" his eyes were filled with concern.

"I'm fine," he replied tonelessly, kicking off his shoes and walking into the kitchen. He promptly turned on the sink faucet and stuck his head underneath, rinsing out the blood.

Mello regarded the sight with horror. "Emil, what happened! Tell me, dammit!"

"Matt and I just had a little dispute, that's all," he said, quickly drying his hair with a towel, which came back stained with blood. "But he looks a lot worse than I do."

Mello's eyes widened. "What!" he grabbed Emil's arm. "What the hell do you mean a "little dispute"! You went there and picked a fight! What did you do! Is he hurt—?"

"Do you honestly care if he's hurt or not!" Emil cried, slamming his hand down on the counter. "After everything he's done, he deserves it! I've restrained myself until now, but I told you if he ever hurt you again, I would kill him!"

"Yeah, but he didn't h-!"

"It's the same thing, Mello, physical or not!"

Mello shrunk back. "You didn't really kill him, did you?" he asked softly.

Emil rolled his eyes. "Of course not! I would've liked to, but no. But he's still in a pretty bad shape, anyhow."

The blond knew all too well what "bad shape" meant. Ever since camp had ended, and pretty much all the boys at school had found out that both Mello and Emil were gay, Emil had often gotten into various fights, mostly because of something someone had said about Mello. He never picked fights about the rumours circling him. Mello had seen the results of these "fights", too. They were never pretty.

"I don't need you defending me!" Mello said, trying to sound angry, but his voice trembled all the same.

"Look, don't be mad because I gave him what he deserved! He had it coming and he knew it! Besides – someone has to, because you NEVER stick up for yourself!"

"Just stop it!" Mello pleaded. "Just please, stop it! Stop yelling! I can't stand it!"

Of course he couldn't. It was all he ever heard.

Emil's expression immediately softened, and he walked over, wrapping the other boy in his arms. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "And about what I said earlier, too. I didn't mean it."

"I know," Mello sighed. "You know, you and Matt are actually a lot alike."

"Yeah. I don't like to admit it, but it's true."

Despite himself, Mello laughed. "Maybe that's why I started liking him in the first place."

XxX

Marc didn't come home until late that afternoon, and Matt quickly hid in his room for fear of being questioned. He was almost sick of himself now, going to such lengths just to avoid telling his uncle the truth. He was nothing but a coward, and this cowardice had been exactly what had started the problems between he and Mello. But for the life of him, he couldn't think why he couldn't tell his own uncle – pretty much the most liberal man on earth. Maybe he just preferred keeping his life a secret.

However, Matt's luck wasn't really on his side that night.

On his way back from the bathroom later, he ran into Marc, who was just coming out of his study. Quickly, Matt tried to hide, but Marc saw him before he could duck away. "Matt? What happened to your face?"

"N-nothing," Matt said quickly, thinking of some sort of excuse. "I just tripped down the stairs." He couldn't look at his uncle, though he knew that -even if he could- it would do no use. Marc could always tell when he was lying. _Always._

"Matt, what _really_ happened?" he said, crossing his arms.

"I told you – I just fell down the stairs."

"Dammit, Matt, I'm sick of you lying to me!" Marc yelled exasperatedly. "I've put up with it for the past two years; the lying, the secrets, the sneaking around, being closed off from everything and just doing whatever you want. I maybe took pity on you because your parents died, but I'm through! You are _going_ to give me some damn respect!"

Matt could feel his gaze faltering. "I-I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Now, what the _hell_ happened to you? The truth!"

"I-"

"He fell down the stairs," said a voice behind Marc, and they both turned to see Alex standing in the hallway.

Marc raised a skeptical eyebrow. "_Really?_"

"Yeah," Alex replied smoothly. "Talk about super-klutz." He added a laugh for effect, and Matt couldn't help but be amazed at his wonderful lying ability. He tried to play along by laughing too.

"Told you."

Marc rolled his eyes and sighed. "Whatever. I give up." He raised his arms in defeat and headed down the hall.

The two boys exchanged a quick glance and then quickly looked away.

"I didn't need your help," Matt remarked coldly.

"Please, you were about to tell him everything."

"_Well_, I suppose it IS the least you could do, seeing as you're the one who got me into this mess."

Alex started to say something, and then stopped, looking around the hall before leaning in closer to Matt. "I was high that night, okay?" he whispered, most likely in case Marc was still listening. "That's the only reason I did that. Had I been in my right mind, I would've _never_ done it," Alex said.

"That's no excuse," Matt replied. "It's still your fault."

"_Really_? You could've stopped me if you really wanted to. The fact that you didn't _proves_ that you felt the same way!"

"Alex, I didn't even know _what _I was feeling!"

"Back to middle school all over again, huh?" Alex remarked.

"Look, just _stay out of my life_!" Matt demanded. "That way we can all just sleep peacefully."

"Fine." Alex shrugged his shoulders. "Fine with me." Without another word, he stalked off.

XxX

Emil was laying sprawled out on his bed when Mello returned from taking a shower. He had nothing but a towel wrapped around himself, and Emil couldn't help but stare. He would take furtive glances and then look away, blushing, as Mello sifted through the closet for something to wear.

After a while, Mello turned and gave Emil an amused look. "I don't care if you look, you know," he turned back around with a small laugh. "It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."

It was true that they'd seen each other without clothes plenty of times when they'd been kids, and Emil had always tried his best not to stare, even then. As they'd gotten older, however, that had become increasingly difficult. But Mello had the most attractive figure Emil had ever seen. He was short, but thin, and prettier than any of the girls at their school. He couldn't help but let his mind wander a bit; to how good it would feel to do all the things he wanted to with that body. Emil always hated it when he started to daydream like that; he felt like some sort of sick stalker. Just then, however, Mello let the towel fall around his ankles while he dressed, and Emil could clearly see all of the bruises and scars that he'd acquired throughout his lifetime.

He used this as an excuse to look away.

"Say, Mello..." Emil began, and the blond turned to look at him.

"Ja? What is it?"

Emil was quiet for a moment, not really sure if he should ask the question or not; he already fully well knew the answer. He took a deep breath, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. "...will you go back to Matt?"

"Huh?" Mello's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"After all this is over – and Matt apologises, or begs your forgiveness, or whatever he's going to do – are you going to go back to him, just like that?" Emil asked quietly.

There was no response for a while, and Emil wrung his hands nervously in his lap. Finally, he heard a sigh, and the other boy's voice.

"...I don't know. Maybe."

Even though he'd fully expected this answer, Emil couldn't control the surge of anger and jealousy that pulsated through him. "Wh-why!" he blurted out before he could stop himself. "Are you saying that you still love him, even after everything he's done!"

"...well, yeah. Of course I do," Mello answered slowly. "It's not like I can stop just like that. Besides, everyone makes mistakes. You of all people should know."

"But that's different! When I slept around, I wasn't hurting anyone else!" Emil cried, looking up at the blond, who was standing meekly with his gaze lowered to the floor.

"I know, but...I love him. I can't help it..." the blond's voice cracked.

"I don't believe it!" Emil stood up and shook his head. "After everything he's done, you would STILL want to be with him!"

"I'm sorry, Emil...I can't stop, even after something like this..." Mello said, his hands shaking a bit. "You don't understand."

"No, I DON'T understand!" Emil agreed furiously. "WHY! He hurt you! And you STILL love him!"

Mello didn't respond for a moment, and he was quiet – as though thinking about something. "...and Emil, can I ask you a question?" he asked finally.

"Wh-what is it?" Emil said, angry gaze flickering away in surprise.

"Isn't it true that you would still love me, even if I had done something like this to you? Isn't it true that you STILL love me, even though I hurt you when I chose Matt! Isn't it!" he looked up at Emil with a steady gaze, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

Emil's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, nothing really coming out. "W-well, yeah, b-but..."

"But nothing! It's the same thing! I can't stop loving Matt, any more than you can stop loving me!" Mello cried. "Don't criticize me for loving someone who hurt me, when you do the same thing!"

Emil was silent. "...maybe," he said at last, softly, "maybe you have the right to say that."

"Please, Emil," Mello said, taking the other boy's arm. "I'm sorry! I wish that I could love you like that, I do! But I can't! I'm sorry!"

"It's fine," Emil said faintly, shrugging Mello's hand off, his gaze slightly vacant. "I'm going for a walk, okay?"

"Wh-why? I m-mean, do you want me to...?" Mello began, surprised by the sudden emptiness showing in the other boy's voice and eyes.

"No, I...I want to be alone." Emil walked over to the bedroom door and opened it. "Don't wait up for me, I'll be late."

And he left, leaving Mello in stunned silence.

XxX

Marc was in his office when Matt entered that night. As Matt came in and slowly shut the door, Marc looked up at him in surprise. Matt hardly ever came into the office.

"Hm? Do you want something?" he asked, turning his attention back to the papers on his desk.

"Nothing." Matt shrugged his shoulders. "I'm just bored."

"Should've known." Marc gave a small laugh. "You only ever come in here when you're bored."

Matt smiled a bit. "I just wanted to talk."

"Is that so?" Marc raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You never want to talk. Whatever could it be about?" he wondered aloud, putting a thoughtful finger to his lips, and Matt blushed. He knew his uncle was making fun of him.

"Nothing important," Matt replied, plopping down into the chair in front of his uncle's desk.

"I see. So where's Mello?"

Matt shifted uncomfortably. He knew this question would come up; it was inevitable. However that didn't make it any easier to answer. "Oh, uh...He's with Emil," Matt replied – and this was the truth, at least. He didn't have to worry about his uncle seeing through a lie. However he knew that Marc would probably catch on to the deflated tone in his voice.

"Hm." Marc thought for a second. "Those two are pretty good friends, aren't they?"

"Uh well, y-yeah, I suppose."

"You two didn't have a fight, did you?" Marc asked, somehow always knowing when this had happened.

"N-no, not at all," Matt said, knowing that he sucked royally at lying.

"Okay, whatever you say," Marc said, much to Matt's surprise. He then thought for a minute. "You know, Emil seems very protective of Mello," he commented nonchalantly, fidgeting with the papers on his desk.

"Wh-what makes you say that?"

He shrugged. "I don't know – I just get that sense from him. He just strikes me as the type of person who doesn't take shit from people, that's all. Then again, the kid doesn't look like he could pick much of a fight."

Matt knew this was Marc's "subtle" way of saying: "Yes, he could pick a fight, and I know he's the one who kicked your ass".

"Yeah, not really." Matt managed to laugh, his lip and head throbbing as he remembered the fight.

"So, why did you come in here again?" Marc asked, with a smile.

"I told you, I was bored."

"Of course, of course..."

A sudden question coming to mind, Matt thought for a minute, suddenly curious. He figured there was no better time than now to ask the question. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Why of course." Marc looked up and smiled patiently.

"...Were you ever married?"

To his surprise, Marc smiled. "Yes, once. Ten years ago."

"Really?" Matt sat up a little straighter, surprised. "What happened?"

This time, Marc's expression faltered somewhat. "She died. Seven years ago."

"Oh... I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't feel sorry for me," Marc assured him. "We were happy while it lasted."

"Do you have a picture?" Matt asked curiously.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I do." Marc opened one of his desk drawers and took out a photo, handing it to Matt across the desk.

The woman in the picture looked like she was in her mid-twenties, and she had one of the prettiest smiles Matt had ever seen. The long blond hair and blue eyes painfully reminded Matt of Mello, and he quickly looked away. "She's pretty," Matt commented, handing the photo back to Marc.

"Yes. Her name was Katia."

"Russian?" Matt said, surprised.

Marc nodded, replacing the photo in its rightful drawer. "She came over to Germany because it was easier to live here. But unfortunately, she died of an illness."

"So you never re-married?"

"Oh, heavens no. I just didn't feel like involving myself in a relationship again."

"Haven't you at least thought of dating?"

Marc shrugged. "It's not really important to me right now." He smiled. "What about you?"

Matt blushed and looked down at the floor. "I've already said 'no'," he replied.

"Matt, please, you're a teenage boy. Every teenage boy is the same, whether you like to admit it or not. Stop being so grown up – you should start acting more like a kid for a change." He regarded Matt with an almost sympathetic look. "You're always so serious."

"There's nothing wrong with being serious," Matt replied steadily.

Giving a small sigh, Marc returned to straightening the papers on his desk. "Ever since your parents died, you've tried to act like nothing bothers you – like you don't feel a thing. And I worry about you, for that reason. You shouldn't keep things so closed up..."

"I don't have to tell you what goes on in my life," Matt retorted, slightly regretting his harsh tone.

"I know, I know..." Marc sighed again. "I just wish you would. You don't have to tell me everything, but I would like some clue of what you're feeling, or thinking."

"Fine? You wanna know what I'm feeling? I'm feeling very annoyed that people keep trying to pry into my life." Matt crossed his arms. "Happy?"

"Well, that's a start, at least..." Marc commented with a small smile.

"I'm going to my room," Matt stated, promptly standing up and heading for the door. Marc didn't try to stop him, or even say anything, as he opened the door and walked out into the hallway.

XxX

When Emil came back into the room that night, there was something different about him. Mello noticed it almost immediately, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was, so he didn't say anything.

To his surprise, Emil smiled and walked over to him. He seemed to hesitate a bit, but then wrapped his arms tightly around Mello, pulling him against him. The blond was slightly surprised, but didn't pull away, slowly returning the embrace.

"Emil? Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

There was something strange about his voice, something that shouldn't have been there, but Mello couldn't discern it.

Emil didn't pull away. He continued holding him, his face buried in Mello's neck, holding him tightly as if he were never going to see him again.

When he finally did break the embrace – and Mello could tell that he was extremely reluctant to do so –, he was still smiling. There was something so wrong with that smile to Mello, but he just couldn't figure it out.

"You know that I would do anything for you, right?" Emil said.

"Wh- sure, yeah. Why are you talking like this?"

"I just – you deserve so much, Mello. You have no idea." His eyes seemed to reflect a sort of pain as he spoke. "You're so wonderful. Don't ever forget that."

"Emil, are you sure you're okay?"

"Don't worry about me. Please Mello. You're amazing. You're kind, and you're funny, and carefree. You're the most wonderful person I know, and you make everyone around you smile. You have these wonderful qualities that anyone would be envious of."

Mello blushed slightly. "Uh, thanks… why are you saying all of this?"

"I just don't think I've ever told you how great you are. And I want to make sure you know that."

"Thanks… I mean, I don't know what to say to all of this, Emil. Are you sure you're okay?"

Emil brushed the question aside. "Stop asking about me. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy…" He paused, just staring at Mello for a minute before continuing. "Listen, what do you say we watch movies or something tonight? Eat some junk food, candy, like back when we were kids?"

Mello gave a small smile. "Yeah, uh, that sounds nice." He wondered why Emil was requesting this all of a sudden, but he figured there was no harm in agreeing. He could use something to take his mind off of Matt anyhow.

"Great." Emil smiled again. "Uh, why don't you go to town and pick up a couple movies? Whatever you like, I don't care. It's only about half a kilometer from here. I uh, I'd go and do it but my aunt wants the laundry done so I need to start it."

"Oh uh, sure. That's fine."

"Great." The smile again. "Uh here, here's some money." He pulled a few bills out of his back pocket and handed them to the blond. "You can pick up anything else you want while you're there."

"Okay…" He resisted the impulse to ask if Emil was alright again, putting the money into his own pocket.

A few moments passed, and then Emil abruptly wrapped his arms around him again, tighter than before. There was something that bothered Mello about the way he was holding him; it was almost as if he wanted to savour every minute of it, which Mello found quite ridiculous, considering Emil could hug him anytime he wanted.

When Emil finally released him again, he smiled and stepped back. "I'll… I'll see you later then, okay?"

Mello stood in the doorway for a few moments, trying to comprehend the strangeness of the entire situation. "Uh, yeah. I'll be back in a bit." He hesitated before giving a small wave and heading out the door.

xXx

As soon as Mello left the room, Emil had to choke back a sob. He gripped the edge of the bedside table with his hand, the grief rising up like bile, catching in the back of his throat and seizing his chest, gripping it, cutting off his breath. He opened his mouth but the only thing to come out was a strangled noise. He couldn't breathe. He felt the tears come, hot and fast, and he gasped, a mix of strangled sobs and whimpers coming from his throat. His legs gave way and he fell to the floor, leaning forward and holding his head in his hands. He hated this sensation. He wanted to scream. He wanted something that would purge all of these feelings from him, something that would just make him empty.

He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see.

It was the only way. There was nothing else he could do.

He knew it was probably stupid, he knew it was irrational, but he didn't care.

As soon as he was sure Mello was out of the house, he couldn't hold himself back anymore. He started sobbing full force, barely able to breathe, the tears falling down his face faster than he could wipe them away to see clearly.

_I'm sorry._

_ I've fucked up everything._

_ Everything._

_ You didn't deserve a friend like me._

_ I'm just selfish. _

_ I can't help being jealous._

_ I can't help loving you._

_ I'm sorry._

_ I don't know what else to do._

_ I'm so fucking awful._

_ I want you to be happy._

_ But I'm not even happy myself._

_ Things will be better this way._

In his blind hysteria, Emil managed to compose himself long enough to find a piece of paper and pen, his hand shaking and tears blotting the paper as he scribbled down a letter. He didn't know what to write, he just poured out everything, everything he had ever thought and felt, knowing that none of it would make any sense and that it was probably pointless anyway.

_I'm sorry. I know I've ruined everything and everything is just so fucked up and I don't even know why or what to do anymore. Why do you even why are you friends with me I don't know I'm an awful friend anyway. I went too far I just fucked up everything I couldn't stop being selfish and I'm sorry I'm so sorry you didn't deserve any of that everything is my fault but I can't help it I'm sorry. You probably hate me I don't blame you I hate me too and he probably does to but I hate him too he took you away from me and I know you were never mine to begin with but he still took you and I hate him for it and I hate you for abandoning me but no I don't hate you I could never hate you so I hate him instead and but I hate how you treated me but what am I saying it's not even your fault it was my fault from the beginning you shouldn't feel guilty but I still feel betrayed I don't know I don't know anymore it's fucked why is this even like this and it's not and I don't I can't_

He stopped writing.

He didn't want a guilt trip. He didn't want to sound like he was justified, to sound like it was Mello's fault he was like this.

_But maybe deep down I want you to feel guilty._

He scratched out the entirety of the letter and started to write again.

He stopped.

He didn't even know what to say.

_You wouldn't want to read this anyway. _

He tried three more times before finally crumpling up the paper, throwing it away to get a new sheet.

He wrote four words on it.

His sobbing had quieted somewhat in the midst of writing the several drafts of the letter, but as he stood up again he felt the familiar feeling wash over him, seizing him and wrapping around him, clutching him in a death grip. He pulled open his desk drawer, frantically pushing things aside and throwing things out, searching for the one thing that he knew was in there, the thing that he wanted.

_This is crazy._

_ I don't know what I'm doing._

_ You'll think it's stupid right?_

_ You'll probably laugh._

_ But I just can't._

_ I just don't know what to do anymore._

_ I want it to stop._

He'd always heard everyone say that it was near impossible to kill yourself with scissors, but Emil knew from experience that it was actually probably very possible. He remembered the first time he had used them. He had underestimated the sharpness, and when all the blood had begun to come out he had panicked and spent the next hour with a bandage pressed to it, praying that it would quit bleeding. It hadn't been so serious then, but he remembered how deep the wound had been, how – if he were to press just a little harder – it could probably do the damage he wanted it to.

This thought frightened him, but at the same time excited him. He could feel a mixture of panic and adrenaline running through his veins as he sat on his bed.

He stared down at his wrists, at the vulnerable blue lines running vertically down his wrists.

His hand shook, and he let out another strangled sob.

He gently pressed the blade against his wrist, just to feel the cold steel against his skin. It gave him an odd sensation.

_I'm sorry._

_ I'm sorry._

_ I don't know what to do._

_ I can't help it._

_ I don't want to feel this anymore._

_ I just want it to stop._

_ I'm so sorry._

_ Forgive me for being such a shit friend._

_ You never deserved it._

_ I hope you'll be happy._

With as much force as he could manage, he pressed the tip of the scissors against his skin.

He took a deep breath, mustering up the willpower to make the final move.

It would be quick, simple, all he had to do was make one move.

In one swift gesture, the blink of an eye, before he could talk himself out of it, the blade's tip digging into the thin layer of skin on his wrist, he took one final breath,

And he cut.

XxX

Mello turned back to return to the house no more than ten minutes after Emil had sent him off. He didn't know why he hadn't kept going, but there was a feeling, a nagging feeling, that something was wrong about Emil telling him to leave. He didn't know what it was, but there was just something so inherently strange and wrong about it. He could feel it deep down.

Emil had acted so strange before he'd sent him off, had been so gentle. It wasn't like him. And his smile, his smile hadn't been happy. There had been something dark behind it, something so completely black and somber rooted deep inside of his expression, inside his eyes, that Mello couldn't believe he hadn't paid more attention.

Why had he left? He shouldn't have gone. There was something wrong, so wrong. He couldn't understand why, why he needed to go back, but the feeling became stronger with every step he took.

When Mello finally arrived back at the house and entered the front door, he knew immediately that something definitely wasn't right.

There was a certain emptiness to the house that he didn't like, yet he couldn't quite place it. It was too quiet, almost a sinister silence. He feared for what presence lingered. There _was_ a presence – Mello knew, he could feel it. Yet the house seemed empty. Fear clutching at his heart, Mello walked farther into the house. He chanced to call out the other boy's name. "Emil?"

-No answer-

A bit louder this time. "Emil!"

-Still no response-

Perhaps Emil hadgone out somewhere for the night. Maybe Mello had been wrong... Yes, perhaps this was really it... Yet Mello's anxiety refused to dissipate. If Emil had left, he wouldn't have left the door unlocked. Yet, he knew Mello was coming back, so... Mello felt a cold shiver run through him, as if that was his answer.

Mello continued up the staircase, his heart pounding with every muffled footstep. "Emil?" he called again, only to be answered with more silence. "Emil, come on! This isn't funny anymore! Where are you!"

Just then, the blond noticed Emil's bedroom door, slightly ajar, the light from a muted television shining through. "Emil...?" Mello's voice was suddenly nothing more than a whisper. He knew without a doubt that something was wrong.

As he approached the doorway, and reached out with a shaking hand, he was suddenly reminded of a film where a girl had gone upstairs to discover her floor covered in water, and soon after opening her door she was confronted by a horrific death. Mello swallowed hard, shrugging off the uncomfortable feeling, and swung the door open.

The room was empty, from Mello's perspective. The TV was muted, playing some cartoon that Mello had never seen. There was no sound anywhere, and this frightened Mello more than anything.

He stepped into the room a few feet, and his eyes fell on the bed.

His blood immediately ran cold, and he felt his heart stop. He gave a strangled yell and ran over to the bed. "EMIL!" Mello put a shaking hand to his mouth, his eyes wide, tears streaming numbly down his face. The other boy was pale, his eyes closed and his body limp. His wrists were resting beside him, blood seeping from a deep gash in each one.

Regaining his senses somewhat, Mello frantically scanned the room with his eyes, grabbing the first bits of cloth he could find, a t-shirt and scarf, and pressed them hard against the cuts on the other boy's wrists. He laid his head against Emil's chest, praying that he would hear something, paralyzed by the fear that there might be nothing. He practically sobbed with relief when he heard the faint, slow heartbeat that was still present.

Jumping up from the bed, he grabbed the first phone he laid eyes on -Emil's cellphone- and quickly dialed the Emergency Line. Afterwards he rushed back over to Emil, holding the articles of clothing tightly against his wrists, barely able to breathe from the sobs and panic that were seizing him. "No, please...Emil, you can't!" He wailed. "You can't die, please...no... You can't...Please don't be dead, please..." He pleaded. "You can't leave me, you can't! I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, this is all my fault... All my..."

It seemed like hours before the ambulance arrived, and by then Mello was hysterical. He had to practically be pried from the other boy, and then restrained. He fell to his knees, and something on the floor suddenly caught his attention. It was a piece of paper with something scribbled on it.

Somehow instinctively knowing what it was – and that it was meant for him – Mello picked it up and read it.

He was presented with just four words, written in Emil's handwriting.

"_Es tut mir leid_"

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 11-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>So I'm not quite sure what to say here... ;; I'm interested to hear what people think of this chapter, though. I'd been planning for Emil to do something like this for a long time... But usually when I think of a scene like that, I never go through with it (too "over-dramatic" and such) – but I actually ended up writing this one, so I'm curious to see what people think.<strong>

**Originally, a friend wrote Emil's suicide for me, because she just came up with it and I felt at the time that it was much better than anything I could have written. But, after re-reading it recently, I realized it wasn't the way I wanted to write it for him. And after being in a similar situation, and understanding him a bit better than she did, I felt that I should rewrite it because her version just didn't sound right at all.**

**Cookies for whoever can guess what language Emil screamed at Matt :D (which is also his actual nationality).**

**As far as what he's saying, it's basically "I hate you, you took him away from me, I loved him more than you ever did, it's not fair, bla bla". The reason I had him speak those sentences in that language, though, was because he was openly pouring out his feelings and I felt that it was more appropriate, more personal, for him to do it in his native language (thanks a million to the lovely person on Deviantart who translated it for me!)**

**And please don't be too mean to poor Emil in your reviews, ne? ;;**


	12. Confessions I: Ripittäytyminen

**This (sort of) last chapter is...extremely personal to me. I won't go into long detail as to why (no, no one actually committed suicide, it's nothing like that), but the characters' feelings in this chapter are very close to my own after I had a similar experience a couple years ago (which was actually pretty recent when I wrote this fic), so this chapter is close to home.**

**Part of the "main" title of this chapter is in Finnish (congrats to all the people who guessed the language right!) instead of English because it closely centres on Emil and his feelings, but in English it means "Confessions" (at least I think it does, I'm not so good with Finnish). The language changes depending on the characters focused on in the part.**

**AND GOD THIS CHAPTER IS SO LONG WHUT. OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT I DECIDED TO SPLIT IT UP INTO TWO CHAPTERS I'M SORRYYY.**

* * *

><p>Kapitel 12<strong><br>Chapter 12**

**CONFESSIONS: PART I  
>Ripittäytyminen ** **Aveux**

* * *

><p>Mello refused to leave Emil's beside at the hospital, hours after the ambulance had arrived and the other boy had been sent to the ER and then placed in a quiet, solitary room. He was adamantly persistent about staying with Emil, so much so that the hospital staff didn't dare even suggest that he take a break and get something to eat. Since his fit of hysteria upon discovering his friend in blood-soaked sleeves on his bedroom floor, Mello hadn't uttered a single word apart from what he'd had to tell the staff. He'd remained silent and docile beside the black-haired boy, silently stroking his face, brushing dark ebony locks of hair away from his pale face, his hands shaking as he did so. The other boy was motionless, his eyes closed and his breathing slow and faint. There was some sort of IV tube in his arm, and other various machines resting in the room, one beeping slowly with every pulse of his heart. Mello softly brushed his fingertips along the other boy's white arm, running them down to his motionless, limp hand. However Mello stopped when he reached Emil's wrist, which was bandaged heavily with white gauze. The blond stifled another sob and took Emil's hand with his own, squeezing it tightly and holding it against his face. It was so frighteningly cold...<p>

The air in the hospital made him feel sick. Mello had always hated hospitals; they were always so morbid, and depressing. It was filled with people dying, and more people coming in only to take their places in the emptied rooms. The scent that lingered throughout the morose, melancholy air was filled with the stench of illness, and death. It travelled throughout the building and infected people with its stifling presence. Mello hated being here, being in this room, staring at the motionless boy in front of him; at his heavily bandaged wrists, and all of the tubes protruding from his arms. It was all his fault. Mello had forced him to do this. If he hadn't been so selfish...

"It's my fault..." the blond whispered, fresh tears dripping out of his eyes, and onto the pale hand he was still clutching. He remembered camp, and how he'd treated Emil then; completely enamoured with Matt, he'd barely spared the boy two glances throughout the day. Emil had suffered then, and Mello had known it, and he hadn't even given a damn when it was happening. Sure he'd felt horrible, and apologised afterwards, but it barely even scraped the surface of being enough to erase the words he'd said, the way he'd acted... And then, he'd all-too-happily left Emil back home in Berlin to come and shack up with his boyfriend for two months, even in knowing that he was the only friend the other boy had. To top it off, even after walking in on said boyfriend with _another_ boy, and promptly gone back home with Emil only to try and fuck him to help him cope with what he didn't want to deal with, Mello had blatantly stated that he would still return to Matt despite everything he'd done. Emil was here now, and it was completely, and utterly, unquestionably, Mello's fault.

Various nurses came and went throughout the day, checking things in the room and writing things down on clipboards that seemed to be glued to their hip. Most of them noticed Mello's obvious state, and didn't venture to say anything for fear of upsetting him. However, when a young nurse would finally get up enough courage to ask him if he would like anything, the blond would simply reply very softly, "No thank you", without even taking his eyes off of the boy in front of him. Emil's aunt had visited for a while, but Mello hadn't said much to her. If anything, he partially blamed her. If she, or any of Emil's family for that matter, had actually bothered to give a fuck about him, maybe he wouldn't have done something like this.

But they hadn't seen. They hadn't known. Even if it was only because of their blatant negligence, they hadn't realised what Emil was becoming.

Mello had. Mello had known, he had seen it, had watched it, had heard it, yet he had done nothing. He just chose to ignore it and not ask about it simply because – because why? Because he was _afraid_? Afraid of what his answer might've been? He had noticed the changes, had noticed the spiral downward, yet Mello had done nothing, had said nothing. Simply because he'd been too focused on his own problems to even consider what Emil might be going through. It was all his fault.

The blond gave another sob and closed his eyes, whispering more to the air than anyone. "I'm so sorry... P-p-please..." his voice grew high-pitched. "You can't leave me, you can't do this. I need you, please...please y-you can't..." He angrily wiped the tears from his eyes; what was he saying? He _needed_ him? If anything, Emil had needed _him_. Now he was over here whining that it wasn't fair for Emil to leave him, even though he'd done nothing but treat him like dirt? "God, I'm sorry...I'm s-so sorry, it's all my fault..." he sobbed. He took a shaky breath and softly kissed the other boy's cold hand. "Please, p-please. I'm sorry, f-for everything... I love you, you know that...I pray you knew that... I d-d-did care about you, I s-still do. P-please..." At that moment his voice broke and he buried his face in the bedsheets and cried.

XxX

Matt heaved a shaky sigh and lowered himself into one of the chairs in the waiting room. He was slightly in shock from all that happened in the course of just a few days, and with the suddenness that they had occurred with. Slightly didn't even cover what he really felt. It was more like he had completely been detached from everything else around him. He found that he barely noticed anything else going on. Everyone else's voice seemed obscured in some foggy haze of his mind, and he simply tuned them out further. How could something like this have happened? Everything had gone from so perfect to so horrible. Then again, nothing had ever really been perfect. He and Mello had been fighting long before the whole thing with Alex had happened, and Matt admitted that it was mostly his fault. He'd gone to such lengths so that his uncle wouldn't know what Mello really meant to him, to the point that it had pretty much cost him Mello entirely. The redhead literally, outwardly laughed at himself now, for being so childish. None of it mattered now. Everything he'd striven so hard to protect seemed minuscule in comparison to what had just happened. Mello hated him, Alex was only caught in the middle of what had really started out as Mello and Matt's own feud, and Emil was lying asleep in a hospital room after having attempted suicide. He might as well just stand up and scream out to everyone listening that he liked boys, that Mello was - or had been, anyway, his boyfriend, that Alex and he had already known each other, and that he was probably -no, definitely- part of the reason Emil had done what he had.

He hated himself. No, that wasn't even close to the loathing and utter disgust with which Matt regarded himself now. Everything had shattered, and come apart at the seams, simply from a tiny little kiss, one single mistake; it was all thrown into complete and utter chaos. Nothing could ever be fixed now. It was ruined, soiled, destroyed. All because of Matt, and his stupidity.

Marc hadn't made an appearance since he'd come up to Matt's room earlier that afternoon, to restate the phone call that had been received from Mello. Matt wished now more than ever that his uncle was here, simply so that he wouldn't feel so alone. Hell, he would even be happy with Alex's presence right now. But he had disappeared as well, though Matt didn't really care where he was at this point. The fucker could go jump off a bridge for all he cared.

Matt suddenly felt a stabbing pain of guilt in his stomach at that moment, recalling his and Alex's argument, and his shrill, hate-filled cry of "I wish you were dead!" He hadn't really meant that, he'd just been angry. Surely Alex wouldn't be stupid enough to do something like that... Though the uneasy feeling never quite settled, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He thought about maybe going to look for him, or at least for Marc, but didn't want to miss if anything happened, and didn't really feel like getting up and wandering such a depressing place as a hospital anyway. The redhead tried not to let his thoughts stray to where Mello might be in the large building. He knew he was here; there was no question the blond was right beside Emil's bed right now, and Matt had to resist the urge to ask one of the nurses for the boy's room number.

He knew Mello probably didn't want to see him right now, but he knew Mello was probably feeling guilty, and lonely (simply knowing the blond's nature and how much he seemed to care for Emil), but Matt was sure that even if the blond _did_ want some comfort right now, Matt was probably the last person he'd want it from. And Matt knew that he would deserve whatever harsh comments were thrown his way.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up and trudged towards the front desk.

–

He could see through the glass pane of the hospital door, the back of Mello's head, the other boy turned away from him as he sat beside Emil's bedside. Matt didn't dare go in the room right away; no, he needed to be prepared first, needed to know exactly how he was going to go in and exactly how he was going to present himself. Though he would be surprised if he got so much as two inches in the room before Mello kicked him out. He ran a hand through his hair, which was already tousled from having had fingers run through it for the past three hours. He didn't want to do this, didn't want to have to face him. Even though Matt knew it was his own fault, he still couldn't bear to face the blond after having done something so horrible. How would he even look the other boy straight in the face without feeling completely ashamed? Though it was only fair that he _should_ feel ashamed, Matt reasoned. He'd done everything worthy of being ashamed of, and he figured it would only be what he deserved if Mello refused to ever see him again.

Matt gave a heavy, shaky sigh, and gripped the door's handle with a sweaty palm, pausing for a moment to consider running back and taking refuge in the waiting room. He didn't have any right to be here, this wasn't his business. He was intruding upon something private, something he wasn't a part of. Emil was Mello's friend, and that was why he was here. Matt had no right in intruding in the room while Mello was in such a distraught state. However he couldn't seem to stop his arm as it swung the door open and he couldn't control his legs, either, as they led him into the room and let the door swing shut behind him.

The blond sitting in the room didn't even seem to register that there was a presence in the room. He simply remained sitting, and -from the side-view Matt could glimpse- stroking the other boy's hand softly, while murmuring unintelligible words under his breath. Matt felt another, deeper, stab of guilt in his stomach as he saw the sight of Emil lying there, so pale and motionless. So...fragile, weak. Was it really just a day or two ago that he'd kicked Matt's ass?

Matt felt as though he were a stranger walking in on a private family moment. He had no reason, no right to be here. He should just turn around and go back out the door, pretending as though he'd never even set foot in the room.

Yet he couldn't. Somehow he found himself standing, dumbstruck in front of the door, simply staring at the desolate sight before him. He'd never seen Mello look so..._sad_. Even during their worst fights, Matt had never seen such a dead expression on the other boy's face. He pushed back the thought that he was responsible for it, and cautiously stepped forward, towards the blond. He tried to say the other boy's name, but no words would come to his lips. It was as if his throat had completely closed up, preventing him from speaking. Instead he simply stood for a few more minutes, regarding Mello with a pained expression.

"...Mello?"

He wasn't quite sure what compelled him to finally say the blond's name. It was as if some internal or other force had forced the name from his lips; he certainly hadn't planned on saying it. It just...slipped out. When he had said it, however, he stood silent, waiting to see if the blond responded. He saw no movement from the other boy, and eventually decided that the blond was either too detached to respond, or he was intentionally ignoring him. Giving an inward sigh, Matt had turned to walk out of the room, when a soft, emotionless voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Why are you here?"

"H-huh?" Matt turned around in surprise, to find the blond had stood up from his chair and was now fully facing Matt, his blue eyes still shedding fresh tears. His face was something Matt had never seen on him before; pale and distraught, dark circles under his eyes from no sleep; and his hair was even more messy than Matt's at this point, no doubt the result of abusively tugging at it in frustration for hours on end.

He could see Mello's watery gaze turn to a glare, and the other boy's hands clenched into fists at his side. "Why are you here?" he repeated, more forcefully. "You have no right to be here!"

Matt could feel the comment sting him, even though he himself had known it was true, and he took a hurt step backward. "I just...I, I wanted to make sure, that you..."

"That I _what_?" Mello cut him off, blinking once and causing several more tears to slide down his cheeks. "What do you care about ME?"

"Mello, I-" Matt began desperately. "You know that I-"

"That you what?" Mello cut off again. "Love me? Is that it? Is that your lame excuse for why you're here after I caught you about to _fuck_ your ex-boyfriend while I wasn't home!" he demanded.

"Please, Mello," he pleaded. "I'm sorry, that was – it was a mistake, I never wanted -"

"Save it!" the blond cried, his harsh and rarely-angry voice startling Matt into silence. "I don't want to hear it!" his voice caught in the back of his throat and Matt could hear him stifle a sob. "All of this, it..." he trailed off, gazing hopelessly around the room, before resting his eyes on Matt again, with a sudden ferocious venom in his light blue irises. "This is ALL your fault!" he suddenly screamed, and Matt could feel his heart skip a beat. "All of this is because of YOU! If you hadn't been with Alex that night, I wouldn't have gone over Emil's, and we wouldn't have – " he suddenly stopped, and swallowed a sob. "We wouldn't have had that argument, and – and none of this would have happened! It's all YOUR FAULT! I-I-I..." he stumbled around for the right words before finally hurling them Matt's way. "I HATE YOU!"

Matt could feel the blond's words pierce through him like razor-sharp daggers, and he simply stood dumbfounded, staring at the angry and distraught boy in front of him. Those words...they were almost the exact same words he'd screamed at Alex, after Mello had left. He'd told Alex he'd hated him, that everything was his fault, when in reality it had all been Matt from the beginning. He hadn't realised...what a heavy weight those words had on someone.

"Just get out," Mello said harshly after a few seconds, looking down at the floor.

Matt, once more, was taken aback. "Wh-what?"

"I SAID GET OUT!" Mello screamed, his gaze snapping back up to the redhead. He walked over and attempted to push him, though it was quite a futile effort, as Matt was quite stronger than him. "I don't want to see you! Just GET OUT OF HERE! I - I - " he started to gasp for words, his sobs drowning out his voice as he suddenly slumped forward and buried his face into Matt's chest, sobbing uncontrollably. "I..."

Not knowing what else to do, Matt wrapped his arms comfortingly around Mello, holding him close. He could feel the blond stiffen at first, but then the other boy relaxed against him and began to sob even harder, incoherent German words mixing with the English ones he gasped out into Matt's shirt. "I-it's all m-m-my f-fault!" he wailed. "I-I t-treated him a-awful, a-and didn't th-think about wh-what it was d-doing to him, t-to see us t-together l-like that, and I-I-I..." his shoulders heaved upward with every breath, coupled with a hysterical sob. "Th-that n-night, th-that I l-left with him, w-we, w-we...-we almost..."

Matt stopped him there, understanding enough to know that Mello didn't want to go any further. "Sh..." he soothingly smoothed the blond's hair, kissing the top of his head. "It isn't your fault."

"But it IS!" Mello protested, pulling away from Matt to look up into his face with tear-filled eyes. "W-we h-had an a-argument that n-night, a-and then, he t-told m-me to go out, s-so I...I l-l-left!" he moaned, collapsing against Matt once more. "I-I sh-should have been th-there! I sh-should have d-done something!"

Matt could feel his heart sinking for the boy, knowing how guilty Mello must feel. It was an awful feeling to blame yourself for something, even if it wasn't really your fault. It left you weighted down with a morose and heavy conscious, one that you could never forget about even if you tried. It was a terrible thing to hold in yourself. "Please, it-it isn't your fault, Mello. Don't blame yourself...You shouldn't feel guilty for something he decided -"

"You don't GET IT!" Mello sobbed. "It IS my fault! I wasn't there, I-I-I treated him like sh-shit! I d-didn't do anything wh-when it w-was obvious that s-something was w-wrong!"

"You couldn't have controlled this, Mello," Matt said calmly, trying to keep his voice steady. "I doubt anything you said or did could have helped at this point. He obviously had more going on than just what he showed you."

"B-but I sh-should have asked, I-I should have done s-something!"

"You couldn't have. It won't do any good feeling guilty about it, I promise you – it won't change anything..."

"And how would YOU know!" Mello fired, pulling away from Matt and staring him dead in the face again. "What do _you_ know about it!"

Matt stared him dead in the face, his jaw set and his expression steady. "You want to know the last thing I told my parents before they got on the plane to go to America?" he asked softly.

Obviously surprised, Mello's angry expression faded. Slowly, he nodded.

The redhead avoided Mello's gaze for a moment, trying to fight back the tears that suddenly threatened to well in his eyes. Finally, when he felt he could keep his composure, he looked back at Mello. "...I told them I hated them," he said, his voice shaking a little on the last syllable. "I was furious because they were going to abandon me at home once again while they went and had fun in some other country without me. I was … furious, so...when they left the house to go to the airport, I told them I hated them...and that..." he choked back a sob, "...and that I hoped they never came back." As he took in Mello's shocked expression, Matt continued. "I know what it feels like to feel at fault for something. Even now, I hate myself for saying those things, because it was the last time I ever saw them. But no matter how bad, or how guilty I feel, it won't bring them back."

Mello had a hand over his mouth, tears still silently coursing down his face. "God, I...I'm sorry..."

"You had nothing to do with what Emil did. So don't waste time blaming yourself for something that's already happened. He wouldn't want you to, and I'm sure that when he wakes up he would be horrified that you even thought it could be your fault."

A small sob escaped Mello's throat. "I-I didn't mean it when I-I said I hated you..." he said, and the next second he'd thrown himself sobbing into Matt's arms. "I-I could n-never hate you... God knows I probably should, b-but I...I c-can't. After e-everything that's happened, y-you...you're the l-last person I would ever want to lose..." he sobbed again. "P-promise me th-that y-you won't …. you won't l-leave me, okay?" he said, tightening his arms around Matt's neck.

"I promise," Matt whispered. "I-I love you..."

"I love you too," Mello sobbed into his shoulder, his whole body shaking, racked with sobs.

Matt slowly pulled the other boy's thin arms from his neck and looked into his face. "You're a mess. You should get some sleep, or at least something to eat..."

"No." Mello defiantly shook his head. "Please, I don't want to leave..." he looked pleadingly up at Matt, and the other boy understood.

"Alright. Do you...want anything?" he asked.

A small smile fleeted across Mello's lips. "No. I-I don't think I could eat anything right now..."

"Well...do you..." Matt shifted uncomfortably again, "...want me to go?"

"NO!" Mello almost immediately grabbed his sleeve. "Please, no..."

"Okay, okay..." Matt soothed, sitting down in the chair Mello had occupied, and pulling the blond into his lap. "It's alright."

Mello wrapped his arms around Matt and settled comfortably against him, silent except for a sob here and there. Matt silently smoothed his hair, and stroked his arm in a soothing sort of gesture. It wasn't long before he had fallen asleep in Matt's arms.

XxX

It was a few hours later that Matt was awoken by a faint noise coming from the room. He groggily opened his eyes, feeling Mello's weight still in his lap, and rubbed his eyes. The blond was still fast asleep, no doubt exhausted by the night's events. The room was freezing, and Matt repressed a shudder, looking around for the noise that he'd heard.

Glancing down at the bed in front of him, he felt his heart skip a beat, as he could've sworn he saw Emil's eyelids flicker, just for a second. He anxiously kept his gaze focused on the black-headed boy, watching for any other signs of awakening.

A little colour seemed to have risen into Emil's pale cheeks, and his hand jerked a little against the sheets. Almost immediately, Matt roughly shook Mello awake. "Mello," he whispered.

"Mmm?" The blond sat up and rubbed his eyes, giving a yawn. His hair was even more dishevelled now, however the bit of sleep had made the dark circles under his eyes fade a bit. "What is it?" he asked with another yawn.

Matt simply nodded him over to the bed.

Mello took one look behind him and instantly jumped out of Matt's lap, rushing over to the bedside, and watching the boy laying there anxiously. The redhead took this as his cue to leave, as he once again felt like this was something he shouldn't stay for; besides, he was definitely the last person Emil would want to see, anyhow. It would be best to avoid the catastrophe that would result from that incident. He quietly slipped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him and knowing Mello wouldn't notice his absence anyway, too focused on the half-awake Emil.

He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, and turned to walk down the hall.

"Matt!" An anxious voice caught Matt's attention, and he looked up, his expression darkening as he saw Alex rising from a bench in the hallway, his expression concerned. "Matt, i-is everything okay?" he asked, his voice trembling. "M-Marc said that-"

"Why do you care?" Matt bit out, stalking past the other boy and purposely bumping into his shoulder on his way. "I thought you only liked ruining lives, not caring about what happens to them after."

"Matt, why...why do you hate me so much?" Alex asked softly, his voice hurt as his gaze followed Matt, who had his back turned to him.

The redhead stopped in his tracks and whirled back around. "How can you even ask that!" he cried. "You almost broke Mello and I up! How can I forgive you for something like that!" he demanded furiously, all the past guilt he'd felt in the hospital room gone.

"Please, Matt, I told you I was sorry! What more do you want from me!" Alex pleaded, his expression pained. "People make mistakes – don't act like you've never done something you were ashamed of later on!"

"I've never done anything compared to what you have!" Matt retorted, his hands clenching into fists. He could feel hot tears spring into his eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Alex repeated desperately. "Please, I don't want you to hate me! I-I can't stand it..." his voice trailed off. "I don't know what retribution I can offer so that you will forgive me. You-you don't even have to forgive me! Just please, please don't hate me..." he pleaded.

"You want retribution?" Matt asked. "Fine." His jaw tightened. "Why? Just tell me, _why_?"

"Why...?" Alex faltered.

"Why you would do something like this!" Matt fired. "Did you just come onto me that night hoping that Mello and I would be ruined, or just because you felt like it, what! I just want to know! And don't give me the whole 'I was wasted' line, because that's NO EXCUSE!"

Alex was silent for a while, his eyes lowered to the floor. "...You're right," he said at last, very softly. "It is no excuse."

"So why then?" Matt demanded.

"I guess because...because I love you," he said simply, looking up at Matt with tear-filled eyes.

Matt could feel his temper only grow, and he barked out a dry laugh. "You've got to be fucking _kidding_ me!" he cried, laughing for real this time. "Do you honestly think I would believe that! THAT YOU STILL LOVE ME! Or are you forgetting how you _abandoned _me those years ago!"

"...I didn't forget," Alex replied. "It's the most regretted thing I've ever done."

"Well you know whose fault THAT is!" Matt asked sarcastically.

"Of course I know it was my fault. I've regretted it ever since it happened, but don't you understand! I had no choice-!"

"You had a choice! You were just too cowardly and weak to face my problems so you scrammed! You didn't want to deal with it! You were weak, cowardly, pathetic, and-!"

"STOP!" Alex suddenly cried. "Just STOP IT! You don't know _anything!_ So just SHUT UP!" His eyes, tear-filled and distraught, begged Matt to let it be.

Matt -who had been ready to stream another long line of insults- froze, surprised. He couldn't recall a time when he'd seen Alex cry. Sure, he'd heard his pathetic attempts at apologies for the past few days, but never actually _crying_.

The blond didn't bother to even wipe away the tears as he spoke. "You just assume you know everything – that I just did everything I have because I'm cruel and wanted to hurt you. You want to believe the worst in me, and continue to hate me. I'm sorry for what I did, and if I could go back and change it I _would_. But you don't understand, you don't know how things were, or anything!"

"Then how were they!" Matt demanded. "Just go ahead and give your pathetic sob story over why you did what you did!"

Alex glared at him, much like he'd done that day in the kitchen. "Sob story, huh?" he gave a small laugh. "Why is it, that when you suspect me of having problems – you laugh at them and declare them 'sob stories', whereas when you hear all of the "Mummy Dearest" stories from your boyfriend, you automatically go into concern mode?" he asked softly.

Matt honestly had no answer, realizing that there was half-truth in what Alex said. He'd always dismissed his problems since he'd came, passed off his stories as nothing worthy of importance or concern. Nonetheless, he wouldn't be caught in such a trap. "Well, maybe that's because his problems are more worthy of concern than a broken nail or accidental hair-dying," the redhead said icily.

"Oh really?" Alex inquired. "So I suppose you've forgotten what you read in Marc's study?"

Actually, Matt had forgotten. With everything that had happened, he hadn't spared that folder a second thought. Now that it was mentioned again, the memory flooded back to him like a bright light, and he could feel his stomach begin to churn. "S-so what?" he said, trying to save face again. "You're going to tell me that you're all messed up because you're daddy got a little too touchy-feely?"

Alex shook his head in disgust. "You really are immature. I...I honestly thought you were better. That's why I fell in love with you in the first place, your maturity and intelligence. But now I see. It's all just a façade that you've created, to hide who you really are and protect yourself from getting hurt. I was the first person you ever got close to, the first person you ever let behind the mask. And now that I've hurt you, you refuse to take it off. You even hide from that little boyfriend of yours. You're unbelievable..."

"J-just shut up!" Matt said.

"I'm sorry, did I hit a nerve?" Alex mocked. "You know, I really feel sorry for Mello. He loves you more than anything, and you would rather lose him forever than simply to tell your uncle that you two are together. It's obvious that he isn't your first priority, that you only do what feels comfortable for you – and he allows it simply because he loves you and wants to stay with you! You just do what feels safe, you try to protect yourself, by declaring when he can touch you or who he can tell, and he just goes along with it like a fucking sheep! Because he _loves_ you. He really really loves you. And you were just like him when you were with me. And now you're only playing out the same fate."

"Who are you to tell me that I'm in the wrong when you did exactly the same-"

"I loved you though!"

"And I love Mello!"

"But I would allow things to bend to your will!" Alex replied firmly, silencing Matt once more. "I wouldn't have minded if everyone in the school knew, but I could see that you weren't ready, so I didn't tell anyone for _your_ sake! I would have preferred to be less secretive, but I _was_ secretive, _for you!_ I allowed you to make choices and decide when and who you wanted to tell! I wasn't the scared little child that hid everything from his uncle, the one person who even remotely loved him! Every decision I made, everything, was for _you!_ Not myself!"

Matt was quiet, the full weight of Alex's words -and their truth- sinking in.

"We compromised on things, Matt," Alex continued. "You don't let Mello decide. Anything. And you see how much it's killing him inside, and you still don't seem to care."

"I do care!" Matt protested.

"Who are you trying to convince?" Alex asked.

"But I _do_ love him!" Matt repeated, the hot tears in his eyes threatening to overflow. "I _do_!"

Alex gave him a soft smile. "I know you do," he said gently. "But you can't keep hiding behind this facade that you've created. You need to let someone see the real you for once." He took a step closer to Matt, and the redhead instinctively backed away. "I remember what you were like. And that person is still there, Matt-"

Matt shook his head, his expression hardening. "No, you're wrong. People change."

The blond gave a small sigh. "I suppose you're right. But..."

"But nothing," Matt interrupted, regaining his composure and wiping away the wetness in his eyes. "I'm not the scared little kid that you knew back then."

To his surprise, Alex laughed, and Matt could feel his temper flare up again. "Please, Matt, you can't fool me. You're still terrified, of the same things you were back then. Only now you don't have anyone to protect you from the ridicule. You're the one expected to do the protecting, and that's something that terrifies you."

The redhead could feel a slight jolt, the almost exact correctness of Alex's words hitting him with abrupt full-force. He remembered the date he'd gone on with Mello, that seemed so long ago but really hadn't even been a month; how he'd abruptly realised his newfound position and had felt the slight terror that it instilled in him. He hadn't wanted to be the one in charge, the one expected of protecting and shielding the other.

Apparently noticing Matt's change of expression, Alex took advantage of his silence and continued. "But you don't have to take sole responsibility, Matt. Mello isn't thirteen, he's older than you were in this situation, and he may have a child-like personality, but I can see he's a lot stronger than one would think. You don't have to endure everything alone," the blond informed him consolingly.

Matt could feel all of it suddenly; all of the emotions he'd felt, all the ones he'd repressed, all of his fears and worries, jumble together and come together in one overwhelming cloud of dread. Without quite realizing or planning to do so, he'd promptly taken a few steps forward and collapsed sobbing into Alex's arms. He didn't want to admit it, didn't want it to be true, but Alex knew him better than anyone. Even after two years he could still look at Matt and see the scared child he'd been back when they'd been together. The terrified thirteen-year-old that had been horrified at the thought of anyone knowing who he really was. It was as if the blond could read his thoughts and understand exactly how he was feeling; to organize all of the complex and complicated emotions and feelings and sort them out. He seemed to know Matt better than the redhead knew even himself.

Alex, who showed no surprise of Matt's sudden breakdown, simply wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, allowing the younger boy to sob into his shoulder.

"I-I hate this," Matt cried, trying to control his stammering and tightening his arms around Alex. "I love Mello, I r-really do! But I-I can't do this! I-I can't! I can't..." he couldn't what? Despite however hard he tried, Matt couldn't find words to explain what he wanted to say.

"It's alright," Alex soothed, stroking his hair. "I understand."

After a few moments, Matt's sobs quieted to whimpers and he closed his eyes, relaxing against the other boy, as if he could transfer all of his fears and problems to the blond, as he used to do. "E-everything has just fallen apart... A-and it's all my fault! E-everything..."

"I know how you feel," Alex said soothingly. "Where everything seems to go wrong and you feel like you're losing everything you care about. But I promise that it isn't as bad as it seems, and it'll get better. And no matter what you think, it isn't your fault..."

Matt was silent for a few minutes, before finally speaking again. "...I'm sorry."

"Huh? For what?"

"F-for everything I said, e-especially the other night. I...I don't hate you, and … I don't wish you were dead."

Alex gave a small smile. "I know you didn't mean it. You were angry, and in all honesty I deserved it."

"Yeah, but...it wasn't true," Matt replied softly.

"Come on now," Alex said, unlatching Matt's arms from around him and looking into the other boy's tear-filled green eyes. "Don't be sorry – the past is the past. And besides, I think any punishment you would deserve has already been fully carried out these past few days." He gently fingered the scar that rested right above Matt's eye, the result of Emil's rather short temper.

Matt flinched a little at the other boy's touch, but didn't reject it. "I'm so sick of all of this..." he said, averting his gaze to the ground. "I just want things to go back to normal..."

"They will," Alex assured him. "Give it time."

Matt stepped away from the blond and sat down on the bench that Alex had been waiting on. The other boy hesitated, but then sat down beside him. They didn't speak. No more words were exchanged between them as they sat and waited in silence.

XxX

Mello could feel his heart skip as he saw a faint flutter of Emil's eyes. He stood beside the bed, his gaze fixed on the other boy's face, listening for an occasional small noise. He could hear his breathing elevate, become stronger and louder, the movements being more noticeable. _Please..._ he thought. _Please just wake up..._

He gripped the other boy's hand tightly, as though willing him to open his eyes and respond. A little colour had finally risen into Emil's cheeks, and his body wasn't as frightfully cold. It was pure agony watching, waiting, praying. Mello had never felt so distraught in his entire life. He could see the other boy's lips moving, and hear his whispers, barely audible, and breathless. He moaned a little, and Mello jumped as he felt the other boy's hand close slightly around his own. Mello fought to control the tears in his eyes as he waited, still watching the other boy's face. Emil's eyelids flickered a few more times, his whispers and murmurs becoming louder, and then finally...he opened his eyes.

Dark brown eyes looked up at Mello from the bed, gazing at him curiously as though confused as to where he was and why. Unable to sit up due to exhaustion and weakness, Emil simply glanced around the room from where he lay down, his eyes then coming to rest on the blond standing beside his bed. "M-Mello?" he whispered, his voice a soft rasp.

The blond couldn't control the smile of relief that spread across his face, the tears finally overflowing as he promptly threw his arms around Emil's neck and buried his face into his shoulder. "I was so worried!" he sobbed. "You s-scared me half to death! Wh-wh-why would you do something like that!" he demanded hysterically.

Slightly startled, Emil wrapped his arms around the crying blond and held him close, stroking his hair. It was then that his attention was grabbed suddenly by the white bandages on both of his wrists. At first, he couldn't remember why they were there, but soon all of the dream-like memories flooded back to him: the fear, the hopelessness, the emptiness, the blackness that had swallowed him just before he'd fallen asleep...

And he had woken up here. He'd woken up here, in a hospital, with Mello crying beside his bed, demanding why he'd done such a thing. Truthfully, Emil wasn't sure. So many things had overwhelmed him, had caused him to sink into the pit of despair that he'd dug for himself over the years. He'd wanted to die so badly, just to escape everything: his feelings, his fears, his hopelessness... "...I-I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what other answer he could give at this point.

Mello only tightened his hold around Emil, sobbing harder. "I thought you were dead!" he wailed. "I-I was s-so scared! I-I...it's all my fault...!"

"No!" Emil said immediately, pulling Mello away to look into his face. "None of this is your fault!" he said. "None of it!" His expression turned pained. "Please, please don't blame yourself for this, there's so much more to it..." his voice cracked as tears welled in his own eyes.

Mello pulled himself up into the bed, snaking his arms underneath the black-headed boy's body and holding him close as he lay down beside him, still crying. "Wh-why?" he repeated. "Why else would you do something like that?" his voice was high-pitched.

"I..." Emil sighed. "I don't know. A lot of things." He wrapped his arms around Mello comfortingly again. "But it wasn't you. So please, don't ever think that it was." His heart suddenly felt heavy, at the sight of Mello crying, clutching him as though he would disappear any second, sobbing hysterically over his almost-death. He hadn't...expected it.

"How can I not think it was me?" Mello asked softly, sobs ceased slightly as silent tears coursed down his face.

"Because I'm telling you, it isn't."

"God, Emil, y-you scared me half to death..." the sobs threatened to come again. "When I walked in the room, and I saw you-" he stopped, taking a shaking breath. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you," he said. He gripped a handful of Emil's shirt in his hand. "Please, promise me you won't ever do something like that again..." he pleaded.

"Mello, I-"

"Promise me, please..."

Emil gave a heavy sigh, burying his face in the other boy's blond hair. "I promise. I would never want to hurt you..."

They lay there together in silence for a while, simply trying to organise and make sense of all their thoughts. Emil gently stroked Mello's hair, as the blond drifted off into a much-needed sleep. When he was certain that Mello was asleep, Emil glanced down at his bandaged wrists, remembering the force he'd cut them with. They didn't hurt now. In fact, it hadn't hurt when he'd done it. It had been a euphoric sensation, devoid of any physical feeling. His mind had been too drugged, too hazy, to think. It had all happened so fast... He'd often heard that when someone attempted suicide, they realised during the process that they didn't actually want to die. Emil figured this was reasonable; it was something you couldn't reverse, and it was usually clear that one's petty problems could be solved with an alternate route than ending their life. Yet...Emil hadn't had any such realisation, or sudden desire to live. He'd wanted to die, so much so that he'd planned it for weeks, extensively, carried out every little detail. He'd cut both wrists, to ensure that he would bleed enough...and the whole time, he hadn't thought "I want to live". Everything had hurt too much, even the things he loved only caused him pain. He'd wanted to end it, wanted to close his eyes and never wake up again.

Yet, here, with Mello asleep in his arms, hysterical because Emil had attempted such an atrocity, the black-haired boy couldn't imagine ever wanting to die.

XxX

Matt was terrified to go back into the hospital room. There was no doubt in his mind that Emil was awake now, and Matt knew that if he so much as set one foot in the room, Emil would probably throw something at him. He didn't want to go back in, didn't want to have to face Emil – who probably hated him with more passion than Matt could've found in anyone else in the world. He wasn't prepared for the long string of curses Emil would probably throw at him, or the look of pure adamant hatred that would glare in his eyes as soon as he looked at Matt. Even though Matt knew fully well he deserved it, he didn't desire the guilty and shamed feeling that washed over him at the sight of the other boy now.

He gave a heavy sigh, knowing that he didn't really have a choice. He had to settle things, make amends some way, or else he would never be able to live with himself. Emil was Mello's friend, and it would be a problem if they hated each other so much that they couldn't even be in the same room. So with a heavy heart and feeling of dread, Matt slowly opened the hospital door.

To his surprise, Emil wasn't in bed, but sitting on a chair by the window, looking distantly outside, as though in deep thought. Glancing over at the bed, Matt found Mello curled up asleep, his blond hair shielding part of his face. He found himself staring for a moment, not sure for what reason other than he didn't think he could stand to look at Emil right now.

However his gaze was brought back to the black-haired boy, when a soft voice from the window caught his attention.

"I didn't expect him to cry."

"Huh?" Matt turned to look at the other boy in surprise; he hadn't yelled, thrown himself at Matt, threatened to kill him? He'd simply spoken, calmly, as though nothing had ever happened.

"Mello, I...I didn't think he would cry," Emil said, his expression slightly troubled as he continued gazing out the window.

Matt finally realised what he was talking about, and a sudden pulse of anger surged through him. "Of course he would cry!" he said angrily. "You almost killed yourself, and he found you! How was he supposed to react to finding his best friend laying on the floor covered in blood!" he demanded incredulously.

Emil's gaze lowered slightly. "I...don't know." He sighed. "I hadn't known it would hurt him so much."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing! You didn't think Mello would care if you _died_! Emil, you're his best friend! How could you think that!"

The black-haired boy shrugged, unaffected by Matt's anger. "I just...didn't."

"God, would you stop feeling sorry for yourself! Stop acting like the whole world hates you and no one cares about you and that they'd rather you be dead! It isn't true, and the pity act is getting really annoying!" Matt said irritably.

To his surprise, Emil laughed. "You always were bluntly honest. In fact...that's one thing I liked about you. When we were at camp, it was like we could be completely frank with each other without the other getting offended." He smiled and hugged his knees to his chest. "I always just thought Mello was being nice to me because he felt sorry for me, or felt obligated to. I guess I never imagined that..."

"...that he actually cared about you?" Matt finished, his anger dissipating a bit, though the irritation at Emil's blatant ignorance still lingering slightly.

"Yes, I suppose," Emil replied slowly. "But if...something like this would hurt him so badly, then I guess I shouldn't question the honesty of his friendship."

"You never should have questioned it in the first place," Matt informed him matter-of-fact. "You've put Mello through hell tonight because of your stupid selfish actions."

"...and you think you haven't done the same, with your own selfish actions the past few weeks?" Emil asked him softly, finally turning to look at him; it wasn't a look of hatred, just a regular gaze, as though to tell Matt he already knew the answer.

Matt squirmed uncomfortably, looking down at the floor. "...I made mistakes, I know that. But...I think I've paid for them." He shrugged uncomfortably. "But I don't suppose that matters to you. I would hate me too, in your place."

The other boy was silent for a while, still looking at Matt as though thinking something over. Finally, he responded. "I don't hate you," he said. "I admit I did before, and I still hold resentment for the fact that you're the only one who can give Mello what he wants. But...I don't hate you. If anything, I suppose I hate myself for _not_ being able to give him what he needs to be happy."

"Emil...what do you mean?"

Emil stood up from his chair, walking over to the bed where Mello was still asleep, gently resting his hand on his head. Slowly, he ran his fingers through the other boy's hair, giving a soft sigh. "His whole life, Mello's never been loved in the way a child is supposed to," he explained, and Matt was surprised to find Emil was speaking French. The redhead supposed this was in case Mello was awake and listening. "His mother only ever showed him hatred and instilled fear in him. When he met me, he finally had someone who did love him, and cared about him, the way he always wanted. But...I think what attracted him to you, what made him want to hold on to you...is the stability that you have." At this, Emil glanced up at Matt.

"Stability...?" Matt repeated, switching also to French.

"Nothing in his life has ever been stable. But you...I mean, you have a solid home, an uncle that loves you and always will love you and continue to take care of you. You...your stability, the peace and comfort that you have, it's what Mello needs. I mean...look at me." Emil gave a small helpless laugh and gestured at his bandaged wrists. "My life is no more stable than his. I could never help him the way you can. He needs you, for the things that I can't give him. I think...that's why he's drawn to you. And I realise it now, that..." he trailed off and looked up at Matt, tears glistening in his eyes. "...I can't help him. I can be there as a friend, yes, but...he needs _you_." Emil walked around to the other side of the bed and faced Matt. He rested his hands on the redhead's shoulders and looked him steadily, pleadingly, in the face. "Please...I'm begging you, please...take care of him..." his voice cracked a little. "I wish that I could, you have no idea how bad I wish I could give him that, but...I can't. So please, please just..." a small sob escaped his throat.

"I will," Matt said quickly, not wanting the other boy to break down crying in front of him again.

"That's why..." Emil said with a deep breath. "I can't hate you. You make him happy, happier than I ever could. So please, promise me that you won't ever hurt him again..." Emil's eyes bore into his, pleading, begging...

"I promise," Matt said.

He could see the tears fall from Emil's eyes now, streaking his face. It was as though everything; the stress of worrying, the relief about not having to worry so much anymore, the years spent taking care of -not himself- but Mello, the years of torture in which he loved someone who could never love him back, the heartbreak of watching the person he loved fall in love with someone else..., it all began to fall, break down, the tough and indifferent mask he'd so carefully constructed breaking and shattering into pieces, revealing the person behind it. He continued to cry, and Matt -not knowing what else to do- tentatively wrapped his arms around him and pulled Emil close.

Emil stiffened at first, obviously not used to it. However a moment later he wrapped his arms tightly around Matt and buried his face in his chest, sobbing, his hands clenching around fistfuls of the redhead's shirt. He cried harder than he'd ever cried in his life, everything overwhelming at once. The first person to ever comfort him, the first time he'd ever _truly_ been comforted instead of comforting someone else. It was as though a huge wave of relief swam through him, taking with it a giant weight off of his shoulders. Emil couldn't stop the tears that came, and he continued sobbing in the arms of the person he had hated most, the person he _wanted _to still hate but truly couldn't, the person who'd taken away the only one he'd ever loved, and the person Emil had sworn he would always hate no matter what. His shattered voice broke through the sobs suddenly, slightly muffled. "You...you don't hate me, d-do you?" he asked Matt, a small whimper escaping behind the words.

"Of course not," Matt whispered. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I-I'm really scared," Emil admitted, his voice trembling.

"I know. But...things will get better," he said, repeating the words Alex had told him not too long ago. "Maybe not soon, but they will. And until then...Mello cares about you. You can always talk to him."

"He has enough problems without me forcing mine on him," Emil replied bitterly.

"Well, then...you can always come to me," Matt said softly. "You said yourself I have stability. If you feel guilty forcing your problems on Mello, then force them on me."

Emil was silent for a while, trying to quiet the sobs that had only grown louder. "I-I couldn't do that," he said. "You don't deserve it either."

"Emil, no one deserves problems like these. But friends are supposed to be able to help, to make it bearable. No one is expected to deal alone."

The black-haired boy drew away, looking into Matt's face incredulously, as though to search for some hint of a smile or that what he'd just said had been some sort of joke. "You...are you saying that we...that we're friends?" he asked softly.

Matt, suddenly feeling uncomfortable (as he wasn't used to touching situations or the like), simply looked away with a pink face and shrugged. "If you want. Seems like you could use more friends." And truthfully, Matt could too.

The other boy simply stood, as though shocked, staring at Matt as the redhead's words sunk in. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and as though not knowing what else to say, he simply uttered "Thank you."

Matt shrugged again, trying to brush it off. "Er, it's nothing. Don't get all sappy."

Emil laughed and wiped his eyes, stepping away from Matt. "I don't remember the last time I cried that hard."

"You looked like you were due for crying," Matt stated, turning his gaze back to Mello, who hadn't woken at all during the conversation.

"You should take him home," Emil surprised him by saying. "He needs rest and I think it'd be best if he got away from this depressing atmosphere."

Matt turned back to Emil and gave him a knowing smile. "You know he'll be hysterical if he wakes up and you aren't here."

"I guess you're right..." Emil admitted, biting his lip.

"Just let him sleep here. When he wakes up we'll sort everything out," Matt said.

"Alright, but...where are _you_ going?" Emil asked.

"I dunno." Matt shrugged. "Probably back to Marc's house. It's not as if I'm needed here, and...he and I need to talk anyway."

"Oh..." Emil trailed off. "Well, I guess I'll, uh, see you later then..."

"Yeah..." Matt found he didn't know what to say as well. "Later, then." He turned and started to walk to the door, but Emil stopped him.

"Wait-!" he said, grabbing Matt's wrist, and blushing at his actions. "I, uh..." Apparently unable to explain himself in words, he abruptly threw his arms around Matt's neck – a silent thank you, Matt presumed.

He returned the sudden embrace, before backing out and opening the door. He could see Emil watching after him as he stepped out into the hall, softly shutting the door behind him.

* * *

><p>-End of Chapter 12-<p>

* * *

><p><strong>I'm sorry I cut this into two parts, but it ended up being over 30 pages and I since a lot of stuff happened I felt it was too much to cram into one chapter, so I decided to just space it out. eue; <strong>


	13. Confessions II: Aveux

**The last bits of this chapter are actually very recent since I totally didn't have this finished when I first started posting it (but I got tired of waiting and figured posting it would give me incentive to finish, which, it did, so yey). **

**AND I'M SORRY BUT I HAD TO SPLIT IT UP AGAIN**

* * *

><p>Kapitel 13<strong><br>Chapter 13**

**CONFESSIONS: PART II  
>Aveux  ****Geständnisse**

* * *

><p>Matt heaved a deep sigh as he walked into the house and shut the door behind him. He didn't want to talk to Marc, didn't want to explain anything, didn't want to be faced with a bombardment of questions, but he knew he had no choice. He would have to face Marc sooner or later; might as well get it over with.<p>

When he arrived in the living room, he was surprised to find it empty, the television the only light on. It was muted, and some old German soap opera was playing on screen. Looking around, he could see a small glass of whiskey resting on the table, half-drank; it was resting amid other glasses, that were empty. This slightly surprised -and worried- Matt; Marc never drank this much, especially of whiskey. His uncle wasn't even anywhere to be seen. It wasn't like Marc to act so strangely, or not even come to the hospital after what Mello had called and told him. Come to think of it, though, Marc had been acting strangely ever since the phone call from Mello telling him what had happened. He'd looked distant, upset, as though it meant something to him other than just the usual concern a parental figure would show to something like that. Matt hadn't really noticed or thought about it then, as he'd obviously been too shocked by the news itself to really pay attention to how Marc related it.

Just as he began to ponder this thought, he heard footsteps in the doorway and turned to see Marc standing in the living room, a fresh bottle of gin held loosely in his hand as he leaned one arm against the door frame. This was a Marc that Matt had never seen; his hair was messed and fell in his face, and his eyes were sunken, tired, truly displaying his age. His tie was loosened and he looked like a stereotypical alcoholic from a film one would see on television. He looked at Matt in surprise at first, and then his expression reverted back to the original drunken stupor.

"Marc...what's going on?" Matt asked, suddenly becoming concerned as he saw the calm, collected Marc he knew shatter right before his very eyes.

His uncle gave him a strange look, as if he didn't quite know himself, before shaking his head and stepping in the room. "Nothing. Nothing, I just...I just needed a drink," he said, his voice husky.

"Since when does a drink consist of three or four glasses of whiskey?" Matt asked, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Matt, I am an adult. It is no concern of yours how much I drink or why," Marc replied calmly, as calmly as he would have in any state. "Besides, why should you have any regard for me, when you've never shown any before? For me, or your friends."

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Forcing Mello to keep secrets, refusing to tell me _anything_ that is going on, expecting me to just sidle along and step aside and let you do anything and everything you want. You don't seem to care that it was hard on Mello to keep your secrets, or that it hurt me to see you keeping secrets from me at all, to feel like you couldn't talk to me – to not _want_ to talk to me. And now you show concern just because I'm drinking a little too much?" Marc said, raising an eyebrow.

Matt opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to find words. In truth, Marc was right, yet Matt couldn't believe those words had come out of his uncle's mouth. Marc, who always _did_ just step aside and leave Matt alone, let him say and do what he wanted without questioning it. "M-Marc, I..." Matt stammered. "I...I'm sorry," he muttered at last, looking down at the floor – unable to meet his uncle's eyes.

Marc turned to look at him, a slightly pained look in his eyes. "I've tried so hard to reach you, yet now I can't accomplish it. You're just like I was, yet in the same way we're so different." He shook his head and took another swig of gin.

"Wh-what are you talking about?" Matt asked, bemused.

"I've been trying to get you to open up to me for so long, but you never do. You keep everything so bottled up, like you don't care about anyone so you don't want their help," Marc replied helplessly. "Why won't you just tell me what's going on?" he asked pleadingly.

"There's nothing going on," Matt said, though his lie was immediately given away when he lowered his gaze again.

"Dammit, Matt, stop lying! How can you tell me nothing is going on, when a boy is laying in the hospital after trying to kill himself!" Marc demanded angrily, slamming the bottle down on the table.

"Who says that has to do with me!" Matt fired back, angry tears stinging his eyes. "He's _Mello's_ friend!"

"And what is Mello to _you_ then?" Marc retorted. "Hm?"

Matt froze, an electric-like surge making his heart skip a beat. He knew he'd probably paled. "I- what's that supposed to mean!" he demanded, even though he knew perfectly well what it meant.

"What is he to you! Why is it that all these years you've been living with me, he's the only person you've ever brought home, the only person you've ever bothered to care about? There has to be more to this than what you've told me!"

"And what does this have to do with what happened to Emil?" Matt asked, uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading.

"And why," Marc asked, looking at Matt curiously, "is it that you always seem to shy away from the conversation when I bring Mello up? Or, more importantly, yours and Mello's relationship?"

"Who says it's a relationship!" Matt fired back. "And what business is it of yours anyway!"

"It is my business because I am your family and you two are living under _my_ roof for the summer, and I'm not going to have this! You are going to tell me the truth, for _once_, Matt!" Marc yelled.

Matt could feel hot tears come to his eyes as he realised with a mixed feeling of horror and hopelessness that he wasn't going to escape the situation. "I don't want to talk about it!" he pleaded, his voice high-pitched. "It's _nothing_!"

"It's obviously not nothing if you've gone to such lengths to hide whatever it is you don't want me to know! And if it were nothing, you wouldn't be so adamantly desperate to escape this conversation!" Marc said.

"I want to escape the conversation because I'm sick of you trying to pry everything out of me!" Matt half-screamed, practically blinded by tears, a mix of anger and frustration pulsing through him. "You're always wanting to talk, and I don't want to! I don't want you to know everything! I just want to be left alone! Why can't you just listen to that for _once_!"

"I've listened to you every time you've wanted to do something that I didn't agree with, Matt. And I still let you do it because I wanted you to be happy! And I want you to be happy, still! But I want you to talk to me, Matt! I don't want you to keep shutting me out!" Marc's voice sounded just as desperate as Matt's. "I don't want you to hide everything , and feel like you don't have anyone to come to! I want to help, Matt..."

"You can help by leaving me the hell alone!" Matt cried.

"I _won't_!" Marc suddenly yelled, startling Matt into silence. "I'm not going to just stand by and let you have your way anymore! You're going to talk, to tell me _something, _for once! You're not an adult Matt, and you don't call the shots here! Please, just tell me what-"

"Just stop!" Matt begged, too hysterical to worry about the tears streaming down his face. "Please, I don't want to talk about it! Just let it go, please!"

"Why don't you want to talk about it!" Marc demanded. "Just tell me that, please!"

"Because it's nothing!"

"It is NOT nothing!" Marc fired back. "What is it that's so terrible that you can't even tell _me_?" Marc asked, his expression showing hurt. "The one person who would love you no matter what, and who you can tell anything, Matt..." he stopped, his voice softening. "I do care about you, and that's why I want you to be happy. I would accept you no matter what, because I love you!"

"God, please, can you just drop this!" Matt pleaded. "Please!" he cried hysterically.

"Why do you want me to drop it?" Marc asked softly. "If you would just talk to me..."

"I don't want to!" Matt cried, sinking down onto the couch and burying his face in his hands. "I don't want to talk about it, please..." he shook his head helplessly.

Marc sat down and gently put an arm around Matt's shoulders. "...I wish you could tell me. I know you and Mello are friends, but...sometimes I think there's more to it than that. As though you care about him more than friends..."

"MAYBE I DO!" Matt suddenly screamed into his hands, sobbing louder. He abruptly stood up from the couch and faced Marc, glaring, with tear-filled eyes. "SO WHAT! WHAT DOES IT MATTER!"

Marc didn't attempt to move from the sofa, as he fixed Matt with a soft, steady gaze. "...do you love him?"

Matt froze, his expression helpless and distraught. He fixed Marc with a steady gaze, looking him straight in the eye and telling him the truth for practically the first time in his life. "...yes, I do," he said softly. It was the one thing he couldn't lie about.

For a minute Marc was silent. He simply sighed and took another swig of his drink, before looking down at the floor, swilling his drink around in its glass as though mulling something over. "...I guess Lucille was right," he said at last. "...You're more like me than I thought."

"Wh-what?" Matt gave him a baffled look. "What do you mean?"

Marc gave a heavy sigh and reached down on the table, where he picked up a leather-bound book Matt hadn't noticed before in his surveying of the room. Slowly, he extended his arm and offered it wordlessly to Matt.

Though confused, Matt took the book and studied it, realizing with another electric-surge-like heart skip that it was the diary he'd found in the attic. "Um...what is it?" he asked, pretending like he'd never seen it.

Marc gave him a knowing look, clearly indicating he knew Matt had seen it from the look on his face. "I know you read that up in the attic," he said.

"Well, so what?" Matt gave an indifferent shrug. "So I read one of mum's old diaries, big deal." He set it back down on the table, still confused.

"Matt...that diary isn't your mother's," Marc replied.

His nephew's eyes snapped up, searching for an explanation, as though he didn't quite understand. "Then whose...?" But then he realised, his eyes widening with comprehension. "O-oh..." he averted his gaze from Marc, blushing as he remembered the diary's contents. "But, you..." he began desperately.

Marc nodded solemnly.

Matt's eyes clearly displayed something similar to betrayal. "I-I don't understand... Wh-why didn't you _tell_ me?" he demanded. He couldn't help but think -had his uncle informed him of this fact sooner- it would have made things a lot easier to deal with.

"I didn't think I would ever have a reason to," Marc said, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "I didn't see a need. But then... you brought _him_ here...and I could tell right from the start -from the way you looked at him, and talked about him, and the way he looked at and talked to you in return- that there was more to the relationship than just friends. I didn't want to think, didn't want to make too solid of an assumption, but... I desperately wanted to be wrong, Matt, I did. I didn't want you to have to go through this, to endure all of this. If anything I was hoping it wasn't true, so that you might have it easier..." he shook his head.

"So all this time..." Matt said, and Marc simply nodded. The redhead suddenly grew defensive. "So why bother telling me now? I mean, does it really matter?" he said tartly.

"I think it does matter, Matt. A lot," Marc replied. "You're more like I was than you think. Believe it or not, I understand exactly what you're going through. That's why I want you to talk to me, so that I can _know_ and I can help... Please, I don't ever want you to go through the same things I did." Marc shook his head.

"Wh...what do you mean?" Matt asked, sitting down in the sofa opposite Marc, listening intently.

His uncle heaved a deep sigh, drinking the last of the alcohol in his glass. "I had a boyfriend when I was your age," he said. "And like you, I didn't want anyone to know we were more than friends. I was terrified of going through the ridicule, and of facing my parents' scorn and disappointment, and Lucille and her judgmental opinions and comments... I forced him to keep it a secret, all the years we were dating. I loved him more than anything, but I refused to let him tell anyone. I forced him into hiding, when I could tell it just made him miserable. I was a coward, and selfish – I let my fears overpower my love for him, and it only made things so much worse." He paused for a minute and sighed, realizing he had no more to drink. "Eventually, Lucille -being the curious and critical person she is- found out. And as you can imagine, she told my parents. They of course wouldn't have dared have it spread farther than that. They couldn't have stood the ridicule. But their shame and disappointment was enough to shatter the last bit of willpower I had." He stopped again, his voice shaking a little when he continued. "So...I did the only thing I thought would make anything better. ….I broke up with him. I told him I couldn't do it anymore. I wanted to follow my parents wishes and be the son they wanted... I felt like something was wrong with me, I was ashamed and scared..." he trailed off. "...Two days later I found out he'd killed himself."

Matt could feel his heart sink, and an overwhelming feeling of pity seized him. He suddenly understood why Marc hadn't come to the hospital, and why he'd acted so funny, and why he was drinking now... There was no telling how many memories it had brought back. "Marc, I...I'm so sorry," he said.

"Matt, I never want you to feel as alone as I did while going through all that. I didn't have anyone to talk to, or anyone to confide in... I don't want you to be alone in this. So please, don't hide things from me... And don't force Mello to either." He sighed. "It was the worst regret of my life, and I would give anything..._anything_...to go back and change it. But I can't. And I don't want you to make the same mistake." He looked up at Matt. "Don't ever feel ashamed, or like you have to hide who you really are."

"Marc...I...I had no idea..." He shook his head. "Is this what Lucille kept hinting at dinner that night?"

"Lucille has always been very...opinionated," Marc replied with a sigh. "She thinks I ruined the family, especially when I left to come live here. Mostly it was to get away from them, and their hypocrisy, and to escape all of my mistakes...and him." He shook his head. "Lucille says I'm the reason my mother died. She blames everything on me..."

"Well that's not fair," Matt said angrily.

Marc gave a small amused laugh. "Matt, if there's one thing you need to learn – is that life isn't fair. Especially to people like us. But...that doesn't mean you have to put up with it. Don't let people walk all over you just because of who you are."

"Marc, I...I'm sorry, for...for everything I said to you. I-I was awful-" Matt said, feeling a stab of guilt just thinking about it.

"It's perfectly alright," Marc assured him, with a sincere smile. "You're my nephew. And I know you didn't mean a lot of what you said. You were angry, frustrated. It's only natural."

"Still...that night I went out and got drunk, it...it wasn't fair to you. I just threw all of your trust back in your face. You didn't deserve it."

"Matt..." Marc stood up and walked over to him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I don't hold any of this against you. Perhaps I was wrong in prying into your personal life so much... But I just couldn't bear the thought of you ending up like me."

"It's okay," Matt said. "I understand..."

"Just please, Matt...just don't ever be afraid to talk to me, okay?"

Matt looked up at him and nodded, smiling a little. "I won't." He accepted the hug Marc offered him, before slowly stepping away. "I...should go talk to Mello."

"Right." Marc detached himself from his nephew. "After everything that's happened I think you both just need to relax. Do you...want me to drive you?" Marc asked.

Matt shook his head. "It's okay. I'd … rather go alone, have some time to think, you know?"

"Of course." Marc smiled. "I'll be here when you get back."

Matt gave a small nod and turned to walk out the doorway. It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a giant wave of relief flooding through him. He'd known deep down that telling Marc would lighten the load of guilt and secrets he'd kept hidden for so long, but he hadn't expected it to feel so..._good_... He felt as though everything was clearer now, and he didn't have anything to worry about. No more hiding, no more subtle hints to his uncle... The heavy weight of -well- _weightlessness _overwhelmed him, so much so that he felt like crying. It was over. The walls had shattered, and he'd broken down, but in the end all of it had been for the best.

XxX

Matt walked through the hospital, trying to ignore the sickly smell that always accompanied them. It always had a sickly smell; then again, it _was_ a hospital.

He figured Mello was still with Emil; it was unlikely that the blond would leave his side for even a second after what happened. He made his way in the direction of the waiting room, intending to ask for the boy's room number, which he had forgotten. However he was surprised to find the blond in the waiting room at the service desk, looking distraught.

"What do you mean I can't see him!" the blond demanded.

"I'm sorry, but visiting hours are over. You'll have to come back tomorrow."

Mello gave a distressed sigh and turned away from the desk, his entire being appearing exhausted. When Matt saw how pale and tired and stressed the other boy was, he could feel a stabbing pain of guilt. He knew it was partly his fault that the blond was so stressed and upset. The whole thing with Emil probably never would have happened if Matt hadn't been such an idiot.

"Mello..."

When the other boy noticed his presence, his face seemed to brighten a bit. "Hey, Matt, I didn't expect you back."

Matt didn't say anything. He walked forward and promptly threw his arms around the other boy. He didn't care who saw or what they thought. None of that mattered to him. He pulled away from the blond and kissed him directly on the lips.

A few people in the waiting room gasped, a few whoop-whistled, and the particularly older ones sat silently in their seats.

Mello stared at him in surprise. "Matt, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I just..." Matt had been talking in English, but stopped, switching to German with no regard for the people in the room who would understand the conversation. "I'm sorry, for everything. For lying to Marc and making you lie. For being a complete ass... I told him everything tonight. No more secrets, I promise."

"You...you really mean that?" Mello asked, his blue eyes wide.

"Yes, I mean it. Mello, you're the most important thing to me in the world, and I wouldn't want to lose you because I was too stupid to ignore what other people thought."

The blond's face broke into a smile. "I...I don't know what to say. Why the sudden change?" He gave a small laugh.

Matt was silent for a moment, thinking about what Marc had told him, about the boy that had killed himself. For some reason, he didn't quite want to relate that story to Mello just yet. "I just realised that I would eventually lose you if I kept being such an ass, and I would rather Marc know everything than lose you because of my own selfishness."

"Matt, I...I don't know what to say." The blond seemed at a loss for words. He simply threw his arms around Matt's neck in a similar way the redhead had done to him.

"You don't have to say anything," Matt whispered against his ear. "I don't want to fight anymore. I'm just ready to put all of these horrible events behind us."

Mello pulled back and smiled. "Me too." A small look of worry flitted across his blue eyes. "Do you think it was my fault?" he asked, and Matt understood he was referring to Emil.

"Come on." He took the other boy's hand and led him over to a bench a ways away from the reception desk. They sat down, and Matt put his arm around Mello's shoulders. "You know better than that."

"B-but even if Emil says it isn't, it's just because he doesn't want me to blame myself... When I think about the way I treated him at camp, a-and... I knew how he felt all along, I knew it deep down through all the years I've known him, but I just ignored it. A-and even when I did know, I just wanted to avoid the depressing talks, and the guilty feeling that swallowed me every time I was around him..."

"Mello, you want to hate and blame yourself for this, but it's not going to do you any good. The fact is, even if you were a reason, I guarantee you there are many more things in his life that made him do what he did," Matt replied. "And moreover...no matter what I tell you, even if I say it's your fault, I doubt you'll be satisfied until you hear the words come from Emil himself."

Mello was silent for a minute, staring down at the floor. "If he did blame me, he'd never admit it. He's never been honest with me..." his brow furrowed slightly. "In all the time that I've known him, he's just told me the things I wanted to hear, to make me feel better. If he was hurting, he'd say he was fine so that I wouldn't worry. If he was angry with me, he'd pretend that he wasn't. I...I don't think I've ever known his real feelings."

At the sound of the blond's hurt voice, Matt squeezed his shoulder slightly. "It's because he cares about you. He wouldn't ever want to hurt you with his words, so he says the things that he know will make you happy." The redhead sighed slightly. "Though, if you want my opinion, I think it's a very stupid thing for him to have done."

Mello looked up at him curiously. "Why do you say that?"

"He's spoiled you on kind words. I think if he ever did say what was really on his mind that you wouldn't be able to handle it. He's never told you the dark thoughts in his heart, or the things that keep him awake at night." Matt sighed. "He should have been honest with you from the beginning. If you go in there and demand his actual feelings, the thoughts that he's kept to himself for what is probably years, you're probably going to touch on a lot of pent-up anger and feelings. Be prepared for a lot of harsh and angry words, some that he probably doesn't even mean. There are probably a lot of things you don't want to know. Things that he'll tell you, things that will scare you, hurt you. But as his friend, you owe it to him to listen."

"Are...are you telling me I should ask him straight out and make him tell me?" He had tried that, though admittedly he'd never really gone to any lengths to make Emil tell him the truth.

"It's your decision," Matt answered. "But ask him those questions only if you absolutely one-hundred percent want the truth."

Honestly, Mello wasn't sure. Emil was his friend, he wanted him to be honest with him, wanted Emil to be able to confide in him. But at the same time, part of him was happier just hearing what Emil wanted him to know, seeing the good side of him, pretending that nothing was wrong. "I...I don't know," he admitted honestly. "I...I don't know if I want to know all of it."

"As I said, it's up to you. Though honestly..." Matt stopped himself, as though he were going to say something else.

"What? Though honestly what?"

Matt heaved a deep sigh. "I suppose I might as well give you my honest opinion, because if I don't you'll probably end up putting even more distance between the two of you."

"O-okay... so what's your opinion?"

"I think you deserve to know what Emil really thinks. You say you blame yourself, but you're too afraid to hear the raw truth come out of his mouth. You ask him if it's your fault but deep down you want him to say that it's not, so that you can feel better. You know that you've been selfish, and while you've more than paid for it, I think the least you owe Emil is to hear whatever things he has to tell you. He's your friend, and friends are supposed to listen to one another. You should stop being so afraid and just go and hear the bitter truth, the truth you already know."

Mello could feel his heart skip a beat, his mouth hanging open slightly at Matt's words. Knowing that every word the other boy said was true, he could only stare down at the floor and feel ashamed. "So you blame me too, I suppose."

"For this? No. I blame no one but Emil for this. He decided to do what he did, and that was in no way your fault. If you had stood there and told him to cut his wrists open, or did it yourself, then -yes- it would be your fault. But you had nothing to do with the choice that Emil made for himself. I think you know that too. But despite that, you know that somewhere deep down Emil probably holds resentment for you and blames it on how you treated him, or the fact that you didn't return his feelings. I strongly advise you to hear those thoughts, just or not, before they get buried like all of the others."

"Do you think he hates me?" Mello asked softly. "Deep down somewhere, and just hasn't said it?"

Matt shook his head. "I know he doesn't hate you. And if that's what you're afraid of hearing, then you shouldn't worry. Even if he says it, it's only out of anger and nothing he actually feels. That's one thing I can tell you with absolutely certainty."

Once again, Mello was silent, thinking it over. "I guess I should get it over with, then," he said at last, standing up from the bench.

Matt stood up along with him, pulling the other boy into an embrace. "Alles wird gut," he whispered.

The blond returned the gesture before pulling away and smiling. "Thankyou."

As Mello turned to walk down the hallway, Matt's voice halted him. "And Mello... you should be honest with him too."

At first the blond's eyes clouded with confusion, but as if he eventually understood, he smiled and nodded, turning to walk away.

XXX

Emil was sitting at the window when Mello entered the room, and the black-haired boy looked up in surprise. "Mello? What are you doing here? I thought visiting hours were over."

The blond shrugged. "I snuck back here." He stopped a few feet away and took a deep breath. He wasn't able to look at the other boy as he spoke. "We... we should talk."

"Talk? About what?" Emil's voice was genuinely confused.

A small lump formed in Mello's throat as he opened his mouth. Where was he supposed to start? What was he supposed to say? He had no idea how to approach this, how to demand years' worth of truth and feelings that had so often been disguised by sugar-coated lies. He looked up at Emil, his eyes coming to rest on the noticeable white bandages wrapped around his friend's pale wrists. This was the result of all the lies, the payment for years of fake smiles and of locking away all of his true feelings in his heart, never letting escape from his lips the words he had always wanted to say.

The consequence of always putting his feelings second.

"I want you to tell me the truth," Mello said, finally looking up at Emil's face.

The black-haired boy looked confused. "What do you mean 'the truth'?"

"The truth!" Mello repeated forcefully. "You know what I mean."

Emil's gaze faltered a bit. "I don't know what you're expecting to hear, Mello."

"I want to hear the truth. I don't want any more of your sugar-coated white lies to spare my feelings or make me feel better. I want you to be honest with me for once in your life!"

"I've been honest with you!" Emil replied sharply, standing up from the chair in anger.

Mello flinched slightly, not used to Emil being angry around him. However he forced himself not to back down, fixing the other boy with a steady gaze. "You haven't. You've lied to me just like you lie to everyone else, even yourself. I don't care what the truth is, even if it hurts me I want to hear it!"

Emil laughed slightly to himself, a dark sort of laughter, a smirk curling at the corners of his lips. "Since when have you ever wanted the truth? I thought you were happy with my lies."

"Just look at you!" Mello cried, a sudden surge of anger flooding through his body as he grabbed one of Emil's wrists. The black-haired boy cried out as pain shot up his arm. "This! This is what lying has done for you all these years!" Mello gestured to the bandages, and Emil turned away, unable to look at the wounds that his own hands had inflicted. "You've been destroying yourself from the beginning, and now look at what's happened to you!"

"And who's fault do you think that is!" Emil practically screamed, turning his gaze sharply towards Mello, his brown eyes brimming with angry tears.

The blond was shocked into silence, his eyes widening at Emil's words and his grip on his wrist subconsciously slackening so that Emil was able to pull away. It was the words he'd known were hidden, the truth that had been evident all along, but yet, to hear Emil actually say the words felt as though he'd stabbed his heart through with a dagger.

However Mello gave a steady sigh to control his breathing, his eyes not faltering from Emil's face. "Go ahead. Tell me whose fault it is."

The other boy looked at him almost incredulously, as though appalled that he wanted him to continue. However this expression was soon replaced with the new smirk and Emil cocked his head slightly. "You want to know? You want to hear what I think? The 'truth'?" he said edgily.

Mello simply remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

"_This_," Emil said, gesturing to his wrists as Mello had done earlier, "is because of _you_._ Everything_ is because of _you_! Because ever since you met _him_," he spat the word out with contempt, "it's like I don't even exist! You don't care about anything else! You say you want the truth, but when am I supposed to tell you _anything_ while you're busy fondling _him_ all day! You were perfectly content believing all the lies I told you because you didn't want to hear any different! As long as I pretended everything was okay, so you wouldn't feel guilty about abandoning me to go off with your _pieni __poikaystävä! _And then when he goes and fucks his bloody ex-boyfriend, you're all too happy to go back into his arms as soon as he apologises! You're pathetic! I think if he ever left you, you wouldn't know what to do! Or," he said with a sarcastic grin, "you would just use me to feel better, right? Because that's all I'm good for. You come to me when you have a fight with him, but as soon as you two make up, I'm nothing to you!"

Mello didn't attempt to dispute any of the insults, knowing full well that they were true and he deserved every one of them. Emil's eyes were lit with the anger that was rare for Mello to see, his face flushed as he continued shouting.

"Anytime it came to a choice between me and him, it was always HIM that you chose! I always, always come second when it's between me and him! I wanted to hate you, but I couldn't, so I hated him instead! The truth is he's probably been nicer to me than you have, and at least he and I can be honest with each other! What the hell was I supposed to tell you! You knew how I felt and nothing changed, how would me complaining about it all the time change _anything_! What do you see in him! What! Why is it him and not me!" He walked forward and let his hands fall against the blond's chest, his head hung. "I've loved you and known you longer than he has, so _why him_!" Sobs begin to sound from the black-haired boy. "Why..."

"Just stop!" Mello cried, grabbing Emil by the shoulders and forcing him to look up. The other boy's eyes widened and as tears continued to slip down his cheeks he looked almost pitiful. "All you've done from day one is make me feel guilty because I can't love you the way you love me, and I can't take it anymore! I know that I haven't always been nice to you, but I tried and tried to give you everything I could! But it was no good, you were still hurting and it was because of me. I...I didn't want to see that hurt all the time, so I pretended like everything was normal so maybe I wouldn't feel so guilty. I-I didn't know what to do! I stayed your friend, I tried to comfort you, and be there, but it wasn't enough! I _always_ worried about you, even when I was with Matt! But there was nothing I could do!"

He stopped talking and took a breath, looking at Emil with a pained expression. The other boy's eyes were fixed on Mello's face, an expression of shocked silence on his face.

It had been Mello's turn to be honest.

Before Emil could say anything, Mello had wrapped his arms around him and pulled him against his chest. "Emil, you're my best friend and I love you. I always will. But that's all I can give you, is a friend, and I'm sorry. But...I realise I haven't been the best of a friend, and I never cared to ask how you really felt even if I could tell you were lying to me. And for that, I'm sorry." He pulled away and looked Emil in the eyes, brushing a strand of hair away from the boy's face. "I don't ever want to see you do anything like this to yourself again. I couldn't stand it if I lost you, and I know that you know that."

Emil reached up a hand to wipe his eyes. "I'm sorry, I... Those things I said, I didn't-"

Mello stopped him. "Don't take back anything you said. It was time you said the things you've been thinking for years and never expressed aloud. Even if you don't mean them, they're representing the feelings that you've never shown me. I don't want you to keep that to yourself anymore, I...I want you to be able to tell me, when you're angry with me, when I annoy you, when you think I'm being an idiot, all of it."

Emil said nothing, simply wrapping his arms around the blond's body and burying his face in his chest.

XXX

"It hurts," Emil commented, frowning slightly as he tenderly touched the tip of his finger against the bandage on one of his wrists. "I couldn't feel it before, but now that I'm moving around it hurts like _hell_."

He and Mello were sitting in the two chairs next to the window, talking. It had gone over into the early morning, and faint rays of sunlight could be seen through the window. Though visiting hours had been over for quite some time, no one had come by to tell Mello to leave.

"Here, let me see." He reached out a hand, but Emil immediately moved his wrist away, hesitant. However he finally relented and held it out, allowing Mello to take his hand, studying the bandage on his wrist. He didn't attempt to move the bandage. The blond just lightly touched his fingertips against it, as though trying to see if it was real. His eyes were distant, as if he was busy imagining the large scar underneath, or his friend slicing through his skin with a pair of scissors. As he looked closer at Emil's arm, he could see various other scars, though they were more faded and less noticeable. He didn't comment on them.

"...were you scared?"

Emil looked up at him in surprise. "Huh?"

"Were you scared? I mean...when you did it."

"..Oh." Emil shrugged indifferently. "I wasn't...anything, really." He sighed, and seemed to be debating his next words. "It was like...I was desperate. I couldn't control any of the pain I was feeling, and everything seemed so utterly hopeless... I just wanted to put an end to it. I didn't want to feel anything anymore, because everything I was feeling was pain. I felt like I had no happiness to cling onto, and that there was no point in living if I was just going to be miserable all the time. I couldn't stand that feeling, the...the complete hopelessness of not being able to change a situation. I was scared. ...I was scared that those feelings, that pain, would never stop, would never change. And I wanted to escape all of those feelings." He suddenly shook his head as though disgusted with himself. "I don't know what the hell I was even thinking, like I deserved to have an escape from my pain. You... you've been through ten times more than I have and you've never tried to cut your wrists open." He gave a dry sort of laugh. "I must be pretty weak, huh?"

"People deal with things differently," Mello replied softly. "Some people can take more pain than others."

"...haven't you ever wanted to? Ever thought about just ending it?"

"Of course I have," Mello said, giving the other boy a soft smile. "But when I start thinking that way, then I just think about all of the things I love about living, like you and Matt. Sometimes you have to find happiness in anything you can, as long as it gives you a reason to live." He held the other boy's hand palm-up in his own, staring down but not seeing it. "I'm sorry," he said suddenly.

"Huh?"

"E-even if you didn't feel the way you did about me, you're still my friend, and...I never treated you like a friend should be treated, when it came to you and Matt. And I'm sorry. You never deserved any of that, and I can never forgive myself for it. And I don't blame you if you don't either. I realise that even when you say you forgive me, that...that you don't mean it deep down. So don't say it if you don't absolutely mean it. I realise it'll all take time... I'm prepared to wait."

Emil looked up at him, his eyes wide with surprise. He opened his mouth as though to say something, but then closed it, looking down at his lap. "You're right," he replied. "It will be a while before I can say I can fully forgive you for everything. It doesn't mean I hate you. I don't think I could ever hate you. I'll admit I'm partly at fault. But I can't say I'm over everything yet...I don't know when I will be."

"I understand," the blond replied, and Emil could hear his voice shaking. "I... I was always able to come to you with my problems, and you were always there for me when things happened with my mother, a-and..." He gave a dry laugh. "This is how I repay you. God, y-you probably hate me...I wouldn't blame you..."

Emil sighed. "I don't hate you, as I plainly said. It won't do you any good feeling guilty about something that's already happened. ...Alot has happened, to the both of us. Let's just start over, okay?"

Mello smiled weakly. "I'd like that."

XxX

When Mello re-entered the lobby of the hospital a while later, a voice surprised him.

"Um – Mello-!"

Turning around, he was slightly surprised to see Alex calling him over. By the looks of it, it seemed as though the other boy had been waiting for him.

"Uh, what is it?" Mello made his way over to where he was standing.

"Listen, I...I know I'm probably the last person you wants to talk to right now, but I just – I think it would be good, you know, if...if we talk." He looked down, shifting uncomfortably.

"Uh, sure. Why don't we go for a walk outside?" He nodded towards the doorway that was the exit of the hospital.

Alex looked slightly surprised, but nodded, following the other boy outside, free from the stifling air of the hospital.

They both walked around the building in silence for a while, as though not really sure what to say. Alex had his hands in his pockets, keeping his gaze ahead as though afraid to look at the other boy.

Finally, he spoke up. "I guess you must hate me now, huh?"

Mello looked at him with what could be interpreted as surprise. "Why would you think that?"

Alex shrugged his shoulders. "I just figured...with everything that has happened, you know..."

The other boy was silent for a moment, then sighed. "I don't hate you. I barely even _know_ you." He shrugged. "But I don't blame you for what happened. And to be honest, after everything that's happened...I just want to put it all in the past."

"Yeah that, uh, that's understandable." He hesitated before adding, "But I am sorry, about what happened."

"Yeah, I know. I mean-" he shrugged. "I'm probably to blame too, it's no use being sorry for what you can't change. It's better to just move on and try to make the best of the situation."

A small smile crossed Alex's face. "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

"Say, can I...ask you something? If you don't mind?"

"Sure, what is it?"

Mello's brow furrowed slightly, as though he wasn't sure how to pose the question. "Why did you leave Matt? I mean, I know what he's told me but...there must have been a reason."

Alex sighed, taking some time to think over his reply before he answered. "There was just things that... I wasn't right for him. There was things he didn't need to know about and that I didn't want to involve him in, things that made it impossible for me to stay with him."

"Have you told _him_ that?"

Another sigh. "I'd rather him just think I just did it from meanness, than know the real reasons."

"Don't you think you owe it to him? To tell him the truth?"

"I suppose you're right." He shoved his hands in his pockets, and looked up towards the sky, which had become cloudy since they'd been in the hospital. "Do you think everything happens for a reason?" he asked.

Mello laughed slightly. "What? Like God's will or something?"

"Nah, I just mean like...out of every bad thing, doesn't there come a good thing sometimes?"

The other boy was thoughtful a minute. "I guess, sometimes. Why?"

Alex smiled slightly, shrugging. "I was just thinking. I hurt Matt, and now we're not together anymore. But because of that, he was able to meet you. Someone who is probably much better for him than me. So, in a way, I suppose I'm happy about what I did, because it ended in a good thing."

Mello's laugh was a bit dry this time, as he glanced towards the hospital. "You think it was all a good thing?"

"Nothing is perfect, I know. But...you two love each other, don't you?"

A pause, but then Mello smiled. "Yeah, we do."

Alex returned the smile, looking over at the other boy. "Then I say everything else will work itself out."

Mello was about to reply when a voice sounded from behind them, and they both turned around to see Matt walking towards them, looking slightly surprised to see them together.

"Hey, Matt," Mello's face brightened as he walked towards the other boy. "What is it?"

Matt gave Alex a sideways glance before turning his attention back to Mello. "Um, I just wanted to talk to you about something, that's all."

"Ah, okay. Well, we were done talking, right Alex?"

"Yeah." He smiled, looking a little uncomfortable to see Matt. "I'll uh, talk to you both later I guess."

Mello nodded, waving goodbye to Alex and taking Matt's hand as they walked back around the building.

"So what was it, that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Uh, well..." Matt rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, as though uneasy. He stopped as they passed a bench, and pulled Mello over to sit down.

"What is it?" Mello persisted.

"I was just thinking, well... I mean, it's entirely up to you, if you would even want to, or whatever, but..."

"But _what_?" Mello was getting impatient.

"It's just, Marc said a while back that, i-if you wanted to, when the summer was over, y-you could stay here, with us. I-if you want to, that is." He blushed and averted the other boy's eyes.

A grin spread across Mello's face. "Matt, you idiot, of _course _I would want to!" he flung his arms around Matt's neck and pulled him into a hug. "That's – that's great, I'd love to-" he stopped suddenly, slowly pulling away, the smile gone from his face.

"Wh-what is it?"

"I...I couldn't," he said, his brow furrowed slightly. "I-I couldn't just leave Emil like that, not after everything that's happened. I-I promised I'd be a better friend, and I plan on it." He looked up at Matt with an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, I just...I couldn't do that to him."

Matt looked slightly surprised, but his voice was sympathetic. "Oh, I – I understand. But...going back with your mother, Mello, I mean..."

The other boy smiled reassuringly. "I'll be alright. I'll have Emil, after all. Don't worry about me, okay?" He squeezed Matt's hand.

"How can I _not_?" Matt said, his expression troubled. "After everything you've told me...how could I possibly let you go back? I mean, I understand wanting to be a good friend, but this – this is a bit much. I – please, Mello," he pleaded, "stay here."

"I want to, believe me Matt I do, more than anything. But I just...I can't. I'm sorry."

Matt sighed, looking pleadingly at the other boy but knowing there was probably nothing he could say that would change his mind. "Just...think about it, please."

Mello nodded, but Matt knew that he wouldn't.

Nonetheless Matt took the other boy's hand and they both stood up, walking back towards the hospital.

XxX

Emil was released from the hospital the next day, and Mello went to stay with him at his aunt's. Matt didn't object to this; his feelings of guilt still hadn't quite completely dissipated and he much preferred to shut himself alone in his room. His solitude was interrupted, however, when Marc entered his room in the afternoon, walking in and sitting on the edge of his bed.

Neither of them said anything for a while, and Matt continued reading the book in his lap.

Finally his uncle spoke.

"How are you doing?"

Matt gave a shrug of his shoulders. "I'm fine."

"Matt…the last few days have been stressful for you…"

"Geez, you act like _I'm_ the one who tried to kill myself."

"It still affected you, Matt," Marc said gently. "Anyone would be unsettled by these events."

Matt didn't bother snapping at Marc for once again assuming how he felt – mostly because he was right.

"Matt, please. Tell me how you're feeling. Don't bottle it up. Why is it so hard for you to talk to me about things?"

Matt kept staring down at his book, not saying anything.

"It's so strange, because I work every day with kids that I have to figure out and understand, and make open up – yet I can't understand you, my own nephew."

"Why is it so important for you to know everything anyway?"

"I don't want to know everything – I just want you to _talk_ to me. I care about you, Matt. I know what it's like to have feelings built up that you can't talk to anyone about – I hid those feelings because I had to. That's one reason I became a social worker – so that I could help kids who felt the same way."

"Sounds to me like you should have been a therapist."

Marc gave a small laugh. "Maybe you're right. In any case, I want you to feel comfortable talking to me. I don't understand why it's so hard for you."

Matt wrung his hands nervously in his lap, unable to look at his uncle. He shrugged. "I dunno."

"I don't know how close you were with your parents…but I want to be there, as a sort of parent I guess. It's all I know how to do. But I'm sure you've been able to see already that I'm not really any sort of parent." He gave a nervous laugh.

"If you ask me, you're doing a better job than they ever did," Matt muttered bitterly.

Marc's smile faded, and he looked at Matt curiously. "What do you mean?"

Matt blushed, not having intended for Marc to hear him. "Nothing." He shrugged again.

"Matt…"

"They were never home," he said. "They were always out on trips or at parties. I took care of myself from the time I turned twelve. I never needed them or anyone else, and I don't now."

Marc was silent for a minute, looking at Matt with his mouth slightly open. His expression was likely somewhere between shock and concern, but Matt wasn't looking, so he never saw what it was.

"Matt…that's not what parents are supposed to do."

"It obviously didn't matter to them, did it?"

"I'm so sorry, Matt. I'm sorry that they didn't treat you the way parents should have. Cecilia always was rather egocentric…but…" he hesitated. "She did defend me at first, against our parents, but in the end she gave in to what would better the family's reputation and didn't really care for anyone else. It was a shame. She was such a sweet girl in the beginning. I suppose our parents played a large role in making her the way she was, and I'm so sorry for that, Matt."

Matt shrugged again, but then a thought struck him. A thought that made his stomach twist into a funny knot and a sick feeling to rise in his throat.

"I…I told them."

"Told them what?" Marc asked.

"It was before they left to go to America – I… I told them I was – that I, that I was…gay." He had to force himself to say the word, as though speaking it aloud was uncomfortable for him.

If Marc was surprised, it didn't show on his face. He remained calm, nodding at Matt to continue.

"Dad kinda rolled his eyes at it, made some sarcastic remark – I don't even remember what it was, but – but mum, she…she got this strange look on her face and she told me that I didn't know what I was talking about. She started going on about how I should – I should think more about the family, about what it would do to them. I kept arguing with her about it, and she just got angrier, so I –" he hesitated, not wishing to tell the rest of the story. "We just got into a fight about it."

Marc was silent, and Matt couldn't look at him. He kept his eyes focused on his lap until he finally got the nerve to turn his gaze. His uncle was sitting calmly, but his expression had changed. It was somewhere between anger and empathy, his eyes wide, and Matt thought he might have been fighting the impulse to break down in tears.

"I – I'm so sorry, Matt." His voice shook slightly. "That shouldn't have been the reaction you received. I imagine it was largely my fault for her reaction…the way our parents acted when they found out, it wasn't any better. I suppose Cecilia was instilled with the same beliefs that our parents drilled into us from birth. It poisoned her, and I'm so sorry for that. Perhaps if I hadn't caused so much trouble then it wouldn't have happened that way…"

Matt suddenly sat up straight, looking at Marc with a baffled expression. "What are you talking about? You think it was your fault? Just because your parents freaked out about the whole gay thing, you think it's your fault that mum didn't like it either? I thought you were supposed to be the intelligent one here! What're you doing apologising like a pussy for something that isn't your fault? If you let people treat you like that, then sure you deserve to get stepped on."

Marc looked at his nephew in surprise, immediately sobering up. "You…" His expression relaxed and he gave a small laugh. "I guess you have a point." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Tell me Matt, where'd you get such an attitude? It surely couldn't have been from your mother or father."

Matt shrugged and gave a small smirk. "Who knows – maybe it was from you."

"Don't ever lose that part of you, then."

"Same to you, old man."

His uncle smiled. "Now was that all so hard?"

"You're just annoyingly persistent."

"Ah, but that's part of my job as both an uncle and a social worker," Marc said breezily. "But since you're my nephew, you get all of this annoying persistence for free! You should be grateful!"

Matt shook his head, unable to resist a smile.

"So tell me," Marc began. "You've still failed to inform me about all of this chaos that seems to have unfolded over the course of the past few weeks. I would care to be enlightened."

Matt sighed, absentmindedly flipping a few pages in his book. "It's not really important. It's all kind of stupid when you think about it."

"Matt, stupidity is part of human culture. If we don't accept that then we can never surpass it or understand it. So go on," he urged. "You can start with baby sentences, and work your way up to big-boy words."

Matt rolled his eyes and Marc grinned.

"I guess…it started at camp." He shrugged. "Emil was Mello's friend, and when I showed up and Mello started to show interest in me, Emil got jealous – mostly because Mello was his only friend, and he was crazy about him. I always felt a bit sorry for him – his feelings were easy to empathise with. Things just kind of got out of control then, but in the end, we were all okay. At least I thought we were." His brow creased slightly as he thought back. "I mean, I don't know Emil like Mello does, but I know Mello did everything he could. There's only so much a person can do, y'know. There was so much else wrong besides Emil's feelings for Mello. I think Emil knew that, but he didn't want to focus on those things so he chose to centre all of his sadness on the fact that he couldn't have Mello. And then, when –" Matt hesitated, his heart catching in his throat as he realised he would have to explain Alex, and quickly tried to find a way around it. "I … I just did something really stupid, and it ended up hurting all of us. I guess it was my fault – I wrecked everything, and it set everything into motion."

"Now who sounds like he's blaming himself for something that isn't his fault?" Marc commented.

"W-well, I-"

"I'm sure you probably had to convince Mello that it wasn't his fault for what Emil did – so why do you seem so concentrated on the idea that _you_ had something to do with it? No matter what you did, Emil made the decision he did and it was his own to make."

"Yeah, I know… I just – I dunno." Deep down Matt knew Emil had probably been ready to break for a long time; it had just happened to be Matt's actions that had set him over the edge.

Marc gave him a gentle smile. "Don't be so harsh on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. That's how we learn. And as long as we learn from those mistakes, then some good can come out of it."

"Yeah…" Matt was silent for a minute before standing up from the bed. "Anyway, uh, thank you. You were right – it helped, talking."

Marc smiled. "It's what I'm here for."

Matt returned the smile. "Anyway, I – I have some things I need to take care of, so I'll talk to you later."

"Could these 'things' have anything to do with Alex?" Marc asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt's cheeks flushed a bright red, and he stuttered over his words. "Wh – I just – I, wh…"

Marc laughed and stood up from the bed. "Don't worry, don't worry – I'm done prying. Go do what you need to do. But come give your uncle a hug first."

Matt rolled his eyes, but didn't object. Marc wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight embrace that Matt returned a bit awkwardly, still not quite used to hugs.

"I'm proud of you, Matt. You've been stronger than I ever was at your age."

"Meh. I'm just stubborn."

Marc chuckled and stepped back. "Well keep being stubborn then." He went over and opened the door, turning back once in the doorway. "And by the way – you have good taste; Mello's just adorable. "

Matt's cheeks flared red again as his uncle winked at him and shut the door.

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><p>-End of Chapter 13-<p>

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><p><strong>NEW CHAPTER WILL BE UP WHEN I FINISH IT.<br>**


	14. Confessions III: Happiness

**THIRD PART GOD I HOPE THIS IS THE LAST ONE I'M SORRY. And this chapter is completely new.**

**Sorry it took so long to get up I had long spasm of laziness fdakgklsdnakdslg**

**Thankyou all for taking the time to read this story and leave your wonderful reviews and opinions, they mean so much to me. I hope all of you enjoyed the story and could get something from it, even if it was small. **

**So that being said, I present you with the final bit of this story.**

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><p>Kapitel 14<br>**Chapter 14**

**CONFESSIONS: PART III  
>Aveux<strong>

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><p>Matt could feel his heart pounding as he knocked on the door to Alex's room, but he kept his feet planted firmly on the ground, refusing to avoid the confrontation any longer. There was the part of him, the part of him that was eaten away by the desire to know the truth; until now he had been afraid, but he knew that it would only keep gnawing at him until he asked.<p>

Alex opened the door, his expression becoming slightly confused when he saw Matt. "Oh, hey. Did you want something?"

"I – I want to talk to you," Matt said. His palms were sweating and he had to take a deep breath to keep calm.

"Oh…okay." Alex opened the door wide enough for Matt to enter, closing it behind him and going to sit on the bed. "What is it?"

Matt stood a few feet from the bed, wringing his hands nervously. "I – I just need to know. And I don't want any more of your excuses. I want the truth. I don't care what it is or how badly you think it will hurt me, or whatever it is. Just tell me."

"The truth about what, Matt?" Alex asked, puzzled.

"I – I want to know why you left me."

Alex gave a sigh. "Matt, I thought we discussed-"

"We didn't discuss anything. You just told me what you wanted me to hear. I don't want to hear that. I want to know the real reason. I know there's something there, something you aren't telling me. So just come out with it already!"

The blond was silent for a moment, looking steadily at Matt as though contemplating the matter. "Alright. I suppose you deserve to know the truth now, after everything that's happened."

"I agree," Matt replied.

"Okay. So where do you want me to start – with my mother? The sex? The drugs?" He shrugged. "Or – I could tell you about all of the other things I did that you didn't have a clue about."

"Tell me everything," Matt said steadily, even though he could feel his mouth go dry.

Alex still seemed hesitant, but nevertheless he sighed and stood up from the bed, pacing the room as he spoke. "Alright then. I guess I'll start with the year we met. First of all, we'd moved there because my mom had found another guy to shack up with. He was quite swell – gave her all the drugs she wanted, all the sex…but the funny thing was, he always seemed to be more interested in sex with _me_." He gave a laugh, holding up his hands in a clueless gesture. "Imagine that! Though I dunno, he was a good fuck I guess. And when I wanted drugs, just to forget everything, he'd give me those too. It was pretty fucking great. In the meantime, my mom was spending every penny she had on drugs and booze, and even with a job I didn't really have enough money to hardly feed myself decently. So, I decided to find a more profitable profession." He locked his blue eyes with Matt's green ones. "Can you guess what it was?"

Matt had a hunch, but he didn't want to be right. "N-no," he said softly. "What?"

"Well, I came across this pretty neat porn site while I was surfing the internet one day, and – turns out – they were looking for new models! 'Course, you had to be eighteen – but who looks closely at ID anymore these days? It wasn't so bad – free sex, money…and you know, it turned out a lot of the men there were interested in some off-camera action, too. Sometimes they paid even more than the production company did. Isn't it funny, all these men who were so interested in fucking me? My ass must have been some sort of rare Christmas present for them, I dunno."

"I don't understand…why? There were other ways you could have-"

"You want to know why, Matt? You want to know? It was because every night, I was alone. I had _no one_, and I was sick of it. At least when I was being fucked, there was someone there. And if I was lucky, they'd stay and visit a bit afterwards."

"That's bullshit! You had me, didn't you!" Matt cried angrily. "Was I not good enough!"

Alex gave him a sympathetic sort of smile. "See, that's where the problem was. I actually cared about you. You were finally someone who wanted me for more than sex, who would stay around just for the hell of it. You were so nice… But you see, mum's boyfriend wasn't so understanding about the whole "sharing is caring" concept. Apparently he had the idea that only he was allowed to fuck me. He wasn't too happy when he found out about the porn site, but that was fixable. But you…you were something else." Alex shook his head, still smiling. "He would have never allowed that. But I was selfish, and I went after you anyway. I couldn't help myself. You were something I'd never had before. I guess I wanted to feel what that was like, even for a brief period. It was so wonderful, Matt. You have no idea what a breath of fresh air it was. You made me so incredibly happy. I'll never forget what that feeling was like." He trailed off and hesitated before continuing again. "But you see, it was only a matter of time before he found out about you. And there was no way I could protect you from that. I didn't want you to get hurt because of me, I didn't want you to know what sort of life I led. I wanted you to see me as the person you thought I was. But when he found out, I knew it had to stop. When your parents died, Matt – you have no idea how much I wanted to be there for you. I would have given anything to hold you in my arms throughout the entire thing and tell you it would be okay. But I couldn't. I didn't know how to tell you, how to end it without hurting you – though I knew that I would hurt you no matter what –, but I only wanted to protect you. And I'm so sorry. You have no idea how badly I missed you, how much I missed the feeling back that I had when I was around you. It killed me to leave you, it did, but there was no other way. I was never any good for you anyway."

Matt stood silently rooted to the spot, suddenly becoming aware of the tears that had started sliding down his face, blurring his vision. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had no idea what to say anyhow.

Alex stood up from the bed and silently walked over to Matt, wiping the tears from his face and wrapping his arms around him. They stood like that for a while, not saying anything, Matt sobbing silently into Alex's shoulder and staining his shirt with his tears.

"You were a wonderful part of my life, Matt. Don't forget that." Alex gently pulled away and looked into Matt's tear-filled green eyes. "But we had our time together – however short it was, it was wonderful. Now you have someone else to share your time with, someone that you love and who loves you back, and I know he'll be wonderful for you just like you'll be wonderful for him."

Matt sniffed and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "You're not a bad person, y'know," he said, his voice slightly hoarse. "You deserve someone too, someone who won't use you."

Alex smiled gently. "Maybe I'll find that person someday. Who knows? I'm not so worried about it. I've found that there are better ways to combat loneliness."

"I-I'm sorry, for the way I treated you when you came here, and all the stuff I said-"

"You had every right to be angry with me, Matt. Don't be sorry."

"No, I – I was selfish. All this time I just thought about what you put me through, and what was happening to me… I never considered what you might have been going through, or anyone else for that matter… I was just always fucking selfish."

"It's in human nature, Matt. It's nothing to be ashamed of," Alex said gently. "And in any case, the past is in the past."

"I'm sorry," Matt said. "Why couldn't you just tell me all this?"

"You had this idea of who I was – I didn't want to destroy that. I liked how you thought so positively of me when we were together. I didn't want that to change, even if it meant you would end up hating me."

Matt sniffed again and wiped away the remaining tears. "You didn't deserve all of that, you know – what your dad did, all those bastards– you could have done so much better."

"I know," Alex said, giving a small smile. "I realised that when I was with you."

He tucked a strand of hair behind Matt's ear and looked into his eyes. "There was a reason we ended up meeting again – and I'm so glad that we did so that I could make things right. Even if I fucked them up a bit at first."

Matt didn't say anything, still wiping the tears from his eyes.

"Anyway, I don't know for how much longer I'll be here, but for the time being I'd really like it if we could be friends."

Matt gave a small smile and nodded. "Yeah - I'd like that too."

Alex smiled and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. "Now stop all that crying – it makes you less cute."

Matt blushed and turned away from Alex's gaze. The blond pulled his face back up to look into his eyes, holding his face between his hands. "Be grateful for what you have. You're so incredibly lucky, Matt." He sighed. "Now let's forget all of this – the past is the past, after all. Let's start over – I think all of us could use a clean slate."

Matt nodded. "Yeah."

Alex smiled. "Good. I missed you, you know."

"I…I missed you too."

"Oh, and by the way – decent choice in guys. Mello's a real cutie."

Matt's face immediately turned bright pink.

"Then again," Alex continued with a grin, "he _does_ look sorta like _me_."

XxX

The next day, Mello returned back to the house, Emil by his side. Matt felt awkward, not sure what to say to either of them after the episode in the hospital. However while Emil sat in the living room, Mello pulled Matt aside and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tightly and burying his face in his neck.

Matt was slightly taken aback, but gladly returned the embrace, breathing in the boy's familiar scent.

"I missed you," Mello said.

"I missed you too." Matt held him tightly.

Mello pulled back to look at him. "I'm so sorry all of this happened."

"What are you apologising for? You don't have anything to be sorry for."

"I just, if I hadn't –"

"Stop." Matt leaned forward and kissed him gently to cut him off. "It doesn't do any good to try to find someone to blame. Let's just put it all behind us and move on."

Mello smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that."

Matt returned the smile and held him close. "I love you." He leaned forward and kissed him again.

"I love you too." Mello returned the kiss and wrapped his arms around him.

"So, listen…have you – have you given any thought to – you know…"

Mello averted his gaze. "You know I want to, Matt – I just can't." He looked up at him, his blue eyes apologetic. "I'm sorry."

Matt didn't say anything. He just sighed and held the other boy against him, burying his face in his neck.

XxX

While Mello and Matt were busy reconciling, Emil wandered into the kitchen for lack of anything better to do. Alex was inside when he entered, searching through the pantry for food. Emil sat down at the table, resting his chin in his hand.

"T'as faim?" Alex asked, and then, as though suddenly realising that he'd spoken in French, he quickly attempted to switch to English at the same time that Emil answered "Non, pas vraiment."

They both stopped and stared at each other, Alex's expression surprised and Emil's expression embarrassed.

"Well, well," Alex grinned, still speaking in French. "Since when do you speak French?"

Emil blushed and looked down at the table. "I dunno. A while."

"I see. Long enough to understand mine and Matt's conversations while sitting right next to us perhaps?" he suggested, raising an eyebrow.

Emil's face turned a darker shade of red, as if to confirm Alex's supposition.

"So where'd you learn it?" Alex asked, sitting across from him at the table.

"My family lived in France for a while."

"Ah…well, you definitely weren't screaming French at Matt the other day. What was up with that? Sounded like some weird voodoo language."

Emil rolled his eyes but then shifted uncomfortably. "…It was Finnish."

"Ahh – so you're Finnish. Interesting. Why choose to hide it?"

Emil shrugged, his posture tense.

"Did it have something to do with Mello?"

Emil's cheeks burned. "It was probably stupid – I dunno why I didn't tell him."

Alex shrugged. "Everyone has their reasons for doing things, even if they aren't very sure of what that reason is."

"Yeah…" Emil stared vacantly down at his wrists, which were still bandaged, and he self-consciously pulled his sleeves down to cover them.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Better people than you have done it."

Emil looked up at the other boy, his expression slightly taken aback.

"What? It's nothing to hide," Alex said.

Emil's gaze flickered back down. "I was stupid. I fucked everything up."

"Do you really think that?" Alex asked gently, scrutinising Emil's face. "You felt what you felt – you can't help that. Sure, perhaps you were a little clingier than you should have been, but that doesn't mean your feelings don't matter. Not that I'm condoning suicide by any means, but I think most everyone can empathise with the desire to just end everything."

Emil stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"But you know, next time you feel like offing yourself – just think of the happiest moment in your life that you can remember. Keep that memory, and don't ever forget how happy it made you. Hold on to that feeling of happiness as much as you can, because it's proof that you can and will be happy again. The feeling exists – you've just forgotten how to let yourself feel it."

Emil kept staring at him dumbfounded. The blond boy simply smiled at him. He could feel an aching in his chest, and the familiar knot in his throat that caused hot tears to spring into his eyes. He wasn't sure what he felt at the moment – it was somewhat like relief; as though a weight had just been lifted off of his chest. He found himself giving a laugh through his tears.

"Who would have guessed such fancy speeches would come from someone who-" he paused, as though unsure of how to phrase it. Giving up, he simply smiled and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Thank you. I don't know what the hell I'm thanking you for, but thank you."

"You seemed in need of a pep talk from a flaming homo in skinny jeans, so I just thought I would oblige," Alex said with a smile.

Emil laughed, slightly embarrassed that Alex ad assumed what he'd been about to say earlier. "You're not so bad, I guess. You're more frank than I expected."

"Well, I must warn you," Alex said, feigning a serious tone, "I'm actually pretty fucked up."

Emil raised his eyebrows and simply held up his wrist.

Alex grinned. "Point taken."

XxX

When Emil returned to the living room, Matt and Mello had returned and were sitting on the sofa discussing something. When they saw Emil enter the room they immediately stopped talking, and looked up at him before exchanging a glance between themselves.

"Well I'm going to leave you to it," Matt said, standing up from the sofa.

"Matt –" Mello began to protest.

Matt gave him a look to silence him, mouthing something that looked like "talk to him". He then left the room, leaving Mello looking helpless behind him and Emil thoroughly confused.

"Sit down," Mello said hesitantly, gesturing to the space beside him on the sofa.

Emil did as he said, still puzzled. "What was all that about?" he asked.

Mello nervously wrung his hands in his lap, unable to look at Emil.

"I – I need to talk to you about something."

"Okay…what is it?"

"Well it's just – you know, the whole thing with my mother and all –"

Emil could feel his heart sink and a horrible wave of shame and guilt overcome him. He had been so absorbed in his own feelings lately that he had completely forgotten about the matter with Mello's mother.

"Y-yeah – what about it?"

"W-well it's just – Matt knows about it and everything, so y'know – he wants to help…" he trailed off, and Emil nodded for him to go on.

"W-well, he –he said I could stay here – with him – if I wanted. L-like, for good." He looked up at the other boy apologetically.

Emil was silent, his expression blank, as though he was processing the information. Finally, he spoke.

"Well do you want to?" he asked simply.

Mello looked at him nervously. "W-well I…it's not like I wouldn't but-" he paused, his voice steadier. "I told him I couldn't."

Emil stared at him, not understanding. "Why?"

"I wouldn't just leave you like that, Emil- after everything that's happened. What kind of a friend would that make me?"

Emil stared at him incredulously, taking a few minutes to grasp the words he had just heard. When he finally made sense of what the blond had said, he felt a sudden surge of anger and irritation, and before he had registered what he was doing, he had stood up from the sofa.

"Are you an idiot!" he said angrily.

Mello looked at him stunned. "What?"

"How could you even think of doing something like that! After everything she's done to you! What kind of friend would I be if I let you go back – because of me!"

The blond seemed at a loss for words. "I – I just – I didn't want you to be alone. I want to make it up, the way I treated you. You have no idea how guilty I feel about it."

Emil stared at him, his eyes wide. He sank back down on the sofa, looking down at the floor as though in shock.

"I'm so sorry, Mello." He turned to look at the blond, his brown eyes clouded with pain as he took Mello's hands in his own. "I never considered how you felt, and I'm so sorry. You have so much more to worry about and here I am worrying about insignificant things."

"They aren't insignificant," Mello said softly.

"In any case, this –" he held up his wrist, "-isn't your fault. You have nothing to make up for – you're a wonderful friend and I know you do everything you can to make me happy. I just forgot that for a while and I'm sorry." His voice shook as he continued. "But please, Mello, I'm not worth suffering all your mother's abuse. I would never want you to go through that because I was too selfish to let you go."

Melllo was silent, looking down at his lap.

"Please, Mello." He took the other boy's chin and gently brought it up to look in his eyes. "Don't worry about me. I'll be happy. I just…let myself forget how." He managed a small smile. "And it's not your responsibility to fix that."

Mello looked at him a bit quizzically, as though wondering where the optimistic words had come from.

"Emil, I –" he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

"Really, Mello. I'll be okay. I'll be much happier knowing that you're happy and safe here." He smiled and squeezed the blond's hands.

"You – you're sure?"

"Absolutely sure."

Mello stared at him for a minute as though searching his face for some sort of sign that he was telling the truth. When he apparently found no indication to inform him otherwise, his blue eyes filled to the brim with tears and he threw his arms around Emil, burying his face in the other boy's neck, and hugging him tightly.

Emil felt as though Mello wanted to say something, but no words left his lips as he just held Emil tighter and continued crying against him. It was as if, in that moment, the weight of the world was lifted from him through those tears, replaced by a merciful and overpowering relief, so strong that all he could do was cling to Emil and cry. And Emil thought that, possibly, these tears were, in a way, a sincere "thank you", overflowing from his entire being, soul, and heart.

XxX

"You're sure you're going to be okay?"

Matt and Emil were both standing on the front porch, watching as a black car pulled into the driveway.

"Yeah. At least, I think I'll be."

"I know how hard it was for you to let him go."

Emil sighed, looking down at the ground. "I would have hated myself if I made him come back just for me. I'm not so important that he should have to do that."

"You are important to him, though. Don't forget that." Matt placed a hand on his shoulder. "We're both here for you – in fact, you can count Marc too. If you ever need anything – _anything_ – don't hesitate, okay?"

Emil gave a small smile. "Yeah. I know."

As the black car stopped in the driveway, Mello came out onto the porch.

"You're sure you can't stay for a bit longer?" he asked, a slight pout in his voice.

Emil smiled at him. "I think it's best that I leave now."

"But you'll come visit, right?" Mello questioned eagerly.

"Of course I will."

Mello hesitated for a moment, but then threw his arms around Emil's shoulders and hugged him tightly. The other boy froze for a second, but then returned the embrace.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you too. But don't worry about me, okay? I'll be fine."

As a voice sounded from near the car, Mello let go of Emil.

"Come on, I don't want to get stuck in traffic!"

"Coming!" Emil called back, rather unenthusiastically, before turning back to Mello. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Yeah." Mello smiled.

Emil then turned to Matt. "Thank you – for everything. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

Matt gave a shy shrug. "It was nothing, really. You would have done the same for me."

"Yeah. Probably."

Emil stepped off the porch and headed towards the car, turning back to wave. The two boys on the porch watched him step into the passenger's seat, and their gaze followed the car as it backed up and drove out of the driveway, disappearing down the road.

"You knew he was going to tell me to stay, didn't you?" Mello said softly.

"I had a hunch. I could have been wrong."

"Do you think he'll be okay?"

"I think he will be, yes."

Mello walked over and took Matt's hand in his own, resting his head on the other boy's shoulder. "So did you talk to Alex?"

"I did. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"…You knew, didn't you?"

"About what?"

"About everything that happened to him."

Mello gave a shrug. "Not everything, no. But I knew there was something he wasn't telling you."

Matt gave a sigh and didn't say anything for a few moments.

"Why is it that no matter where you go, everyone just seems to be completely fucked up?"

"Maybe we're supposed to be. Life would be boring if everyone's lives were perfect all the time."

"Maybe. Maybe life itself is just fucked up – and it just gets to the rest of us, like a disease. Maybe everything everywhere is fucked up and there's no escaping it."

"I don't like to think like that. I think maybe things are just bad for a while, but they get better as you go along. We're still trying to figure out everything after all, aren't we? It's going to be a little fucked up."

"Are you happy?"

Mello seemed slightly taken aback by the question, and looked at Matt in surprise. "What?"

"Are you happy?" Matt repeated.

"Well, yeah I guess…" Mello thought for a minute, as though mulling various thoughts around in his head, and finally seemed to come to a conclusion for his voice was confident when he said, "Yes, I'm happy."

"Good."

"Why are you asking? Are _you_ happy?"

"Yes, I'm happy. " For the first time since he could remember, Matt felt he truly was.

"Well that's good then." Mello smiled, giving Matt's hand a small squeeze. "I want you to always be happy."

Another silence fell upon them before Matt spoke again.

"Why do you think people go to so much trouble to be happy?"

"What do you mean?"

Matt gave a small shrug, as though it had been a nonchalant question. "I just mean…sometimes people go to extraordinary lengths because they think they'll find happiness that way. It seems like people spend their whole lives just grasping at it – like happiness is hovering above them right out of reach. Shouldn't it be simpler than that? For people like Emil and Alex – why is it harder for them to find it than us?"

"Is that question really bothering you?"

"I've just been thinking about it for a while. I just think it's weird, how certain people can be miserable while others are happy. Maybe it makes me a bit sad, I dunno."

"I think maybe it's just certain people," Mello replied softly. "They choose to focus on things that make them unhappy. It's no one's fault, really."

"Do you think everyone finds happiness eventually?"

Mello hesitated, caught off guard by the question, however a moment later he smiled gently. "I think people have the power to be happy whenever they want to be. They don't need someone or something. It's a feeling inside all of us, and some people just spend years trying to find it in themselves."

"You know, I think Alex said something similar to me once. I never really understood the concept. But, it makes sense now I guess."

"Well anyway, I don't know why we're spending time talking about it when I'm happy and you're happy and everything is happy and rainbows and sunshine. What do you say we go enjoy our happiness?" He stood in front of Matt, holding both his hands, and smiled.

The redhead returned the smile and leaned forward to kiss him. "I couldn't think of anything that would make me happier."

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><p><strong>AIGO. UM. I FEEL LIKE THE ENDING WAS BAD I'M SORRY I REALLY TRIED I WANTED IT TO BE SORT OF HAPPY AND LIGHT AFTER ALL THE ANGST DDFSKNDSKFKDF.<strong>

**So, I want to thank you all again for reading and reviewing and dafdlasflknd you guys are all just so awesome. **

**There won't be a sequel to this fic, but there will be a short epilogue. I won't post it here, because, but it'll be on my new LJ (I'll post a link on my profile whenever I get it finished). **

**I'm pretty sure this will be my last fanfiction for a while, and probably my last Deathnote fic for good, orz (I'm focusing on non-fanfic writing at the moment, but to be honest I'll probably end up posting some Kpop OTP fics on LJ LOL) Imaloser. **

**DFBDSFDSNFLKNV DSKL. I read several reviews, which said they hoped Alex and Emil would get together – which made me really happy, because in the process of writing this story I actually started an original story of my own where they're both the main characters. Since it's an original, it has no connection with this fic and the two of them meet differently and have slightly different backgrounds (but they're close to the same as here, but Alex is maybe a little less flamboyantly gay). I don't know how many of you would be interested in reading it, but I'd love to know if you are! Nothing has been published yet, but there are five chapters so far and I'm notorious for letting people read them if they're interested. **

**A wonderful thank you to all the reviewers thus far!**

**LoneWandererSpratTodxx, amos222, strangelove13, Anbix, foreverunloved, MycatISLordTubbington, The Akuma's Sakura Violin, NessaYume, Ryuno chu, Mustached Kira, CarefulSteps, itsatruemiracle, Techie Bunny, NearInsanity96, Miss cCc, Gooberstar140, BehindHappyFaces, somebodykillme, Ambyrawrawr, MelMat, Dooseob, Patrickhere, Zeromasked, LittleJeevas, Mister PilouPilou, brightnight003, Stone-Magnolia, ShinigamiMailJeevas, CrayolaNostalgia.x, Techie Bunny, Jen Sully, CupCakez, Poppixoxo, zombie-death-will-destroy-you, MyBeautifulBlackHeart**

**I GIVE YOU ALL THE COOKIES!**


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